


Nightmare and Patience

by SoothingEpione



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, I'll add tags as I go I guess, I'm not entirely sure how tags work, I've got some ideas about magic and soul traits, Maybe - Freeform, Slow Burn, Yeah you read that right, baby's first fic, fluffy Nightmare, like reaaaaaaally slow burn, lord I could not think of a good title, no beta jesus take the wheel, the world needs more Nightmare and Murder Gang fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoothingEpione/pseuds/SoothingEpione
Summary: Nightmare and his gang encounter a mage and decide you know what? Their castle could use a decent maid. Yet, as in any fanfic under the sun, there's a twist, and there's something more to this mage--who requires Nightmare's special brand of magic to stay sane.Started out as a reason to write Nightmare porn and ended up having an actual plot. Lord help us.
Relationships: Nightmare Sans/OC, Sans (Undertale)/Original Character(s), Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 48
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter One: First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is the first fanfiction I've written in probably like, at least ten years. I recently got into the Undertale fandom -- it started with me watching a random Megalovania cover on youtube and now I'm balls deep in the AU fandom.
> 
> I don't know why everyone writes Sans/Reader fics--there's only been a couple fics where I've felt some kind of immersion? Half the time someone writes a Reader fic, they give the reader like, personality traits and the whole point of writing a reader fic is for them to be a blank slate for you to project yourself on. Or maybe I'm overthinking it. But whatever; I decided when I wrote my fic I'm going all in and making my own OC, and so I try my best to flesh out an actual character. I also enjoy Greek mythology, so all my OCs will have Greek mythology inspired names.
> 
> I welcome any and all feedback and criticism. Like I said, this is my first time writing in a very long time, so please let me know what I can do to improve.
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy the first chapter!

The streets were quiet. Diana wasn’t particularly complaining about the fact, especially since she could feel the other half of her soul stirring fitfully, dangerously close to awakening. However, as nice as it was, it was also the middle of the day in a normally busy city, so the absence of people on the streets was somewhat concerning.

She felt a kick—or the soul’s equivalent of a kick—from where her soul resided in her chest and grimaced. Pausing for a moment, she concentrated her magic on her soul and forced soothing, cool magic into her soul. The rising emotions from her chest suddenly abated and Diana continued walking, determined to finish her errand quickly and get back home before disaster struck. Little did she know, disaster had already befallen Ebott City.

Normally she would not dare leave her house when her soul was in this state; when the other half of her soul took over, she lost control over her magic and emotions and attacked anyone in her vicinity until she could force it back to sleep. However, her lawyer had insisted there was some paperwork that just _had_ to be addressed today, in person, and wouldn’t listen to her protests. So, here Diana was, her long legs taking wide strides on the way to her lawyer’s office in downtown Ebbott City.

Off in the distance, Diana could hear some kind of commotion. Screams, crashes, and…maniacal laughter? Was the fair back in town? She didn’t think it was the right time of year…but then again Diana had a hard time keeping track of time since the incident.

A shifting in her chest, and a bitter chuckle from the depths of her soul. _You and me both_ , she felt a voice whisper in her head.

“Stop it,” Diana mumbled out loud before she could catch herself. “Just go back to sleep.”

_Let me out. It hurts._

“I can’t.”

_Let me out. Let me out! LET ME OUT! LETMEOUTLETMEOUTLETME **OUT** —_

Diana stumbled and grabbed the edge of a bench at a bus stop before she could fall to her knees, clutching her head. She forced another wave of her magic into her soul, the inherent ice nature of her magic cooling the painful _throbbing_ and the voice faded. This was bad. She should go back home immediately.

Her lawyer’s office was just a block away though…but from the sounds of it, whatever commotion was going on was also in that direction. And from the sheer emotion she could feel from that street, it was something that risked aggravating her ‘condition’.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Diana forced herself to stand back upright and wrestle her own emotions under control. She could do this. Just a hopefully quick conversation with her lawyer, sign some paperwork, and return home to deal with her problem.

She rounded the corner and was faced with a scene of absolute carnage.

There was blood and dust scattered everywhere; as her foot disturbed a dust pile and she felt it settle on her skin, Diana realized it was monster dust. There was a curious lack of property damage; for the most part, the buildings and the streets were untouched apart from the occasional scorch mark or broken window. The bodies of humans were littered carelessly all over the street; it literally looked like each person had been murdered and tossed to the side.

The screams had mostly stopped at this point, and looking around Diana surmised that it was because there wasn’t anyone left to scream. She heard a shriek that was quickly cut off, and looked up to see a young woman pierced through with several red knives fall to the ground, blood spreading in a puddle beneath her.

At the woman’s feet stood a skeleton monster—not one that Diana was familiar with—dressed in a blue jacket and black basketball shorts. He was relatively short for a monster, standing a few inches shorter than her 6’2’’ frame, and his skull was stretched into a grin that was different than that of a normal human skull. His sockets were empty, oozing some black substance that dripped down his skull and splattered on the furred hood of his jacket and the body at his feet carelessly.

His head tilted up, and Diana presumed that he was regarding her with his sockets. His grin grew a couple centimeters. “Hey there,” he called, his voice a deep, mocking baritone. She couldn’t help the flinch of shock that jerked her at the sound of his voice. “You come to check out the party?”

Diana didn’t trust herself to speak; the presence of death all around her and the lingering emotions in the air was already causing her chest to stir again.

_Kill him._

Her lips pressed into a thin line at the twitch she felt in her hands. She was already losing control.

The skeleton misinterpreted the change in her facial expression and chuckled. “Got a problem, lady?” He flipped another knife in his hand, this one also red—a magic construct. “Why don’t you come over here and do something about it?”

_Kill him. Burn him. BURN HIM INTO DUST. Let me out, I’ll do it, let me out, watch him burn, watch him dust, letme **OUT** —_

A surge of fire magic— _not her own_ —flickered from her before she could suppress it. The skeleton saw, though, and his grin tightened. “Oh, a mage, huh? Didn’t realize this AU had those.” A twitch of his phalanges and suddenly he was holding several red knives. “I don’t think I’ve killed a mage before.”

“What haven’t you killed before?” Another skeleton appeared from an alley, closer to Diana than the original skeleton. This one was absolutely covered in dust and blood, and as he approached he scratched his cheek, heedless of the smeared blood that he left on his own face. He wore a hoodie and basketball shorts just like the other skeleton, but the color of both was almost impossible to discern underneath all the gore. In addition, a red scarf was wrapped around his neck and trailed behind him, the end weighed down with yet more monster dust. His face turned to look at Diana, and she noticed that his sockets were not empty—two red eyelights regarded her from the depths of his skull. Within his left eyelight, Diana noticed a ring of cyan blue that matched the color of her soul. For some reason, that unsettled her. Like his counterpart, a grin stretched his face that widened at the sight of her.

“A mage,” the original skeleton answered. “I’ve killed a lot of humans but I’ve never gotten a whack at a mage before.”

“Ooh, you’re in for a treat. Better hurry though, they give you a huge boost of magic if you eat them and I don’t know where Axe is.”

The original skeleton cursed. “That hungry bastard probably wouldn’t even respect the sacred art of dibs.”

“Nope.”

“Dibs on what?” Another voice, similar to the other two but huskier and more guttural, sounded behind Diana.

Diana whirled to face yet _another_ skeleton who was watching her avidly. This one was a few inches taller than the other two, tall enough to look her in the eye without tilting his head. His skull had a gaping hole in the left side, as if someone had taken a hammer to it, and instead of the small, steady eyelights of the second skeleton, he only had one, large bloated red light in his left socket. The pupil constricted and dilated as he stared at her, and his grin was much sharper than the other two’s. On his right shoulder, loosely gripped by sharp phalanges in his right hand was a gigantic axe—Diana presumed this was the hungry bastard named Axe.

“Uh, nothing.” The original skeleton said shortly.

The sharp grin twitched. “Yeah? You’re not calling dibs on this mage? Then I call dibs.”

An outraged cry from behind her. “Mother _fucker_ , I was gonna kill her!”

“Huh?” Axe’s grin widened. “Don’t you respect the sacred art of dibs, Killer?”

Diana shifted and the pupil shrank into a pinpoint focused on her. His grip tightened on the axe and he lifted it from his shoulder, lowering it to his side. “Don’t tell me you don’t respect the sacred art of dibs either?” he asked her, phalanges twitching around the handle of the axe.

Her gaze shifted, trying to gauge a possible avenue of escape. In front of her, just a few feet away was Axe, his bloated red eyelight unerringly locked onto her. To her left, several feet away was the second, unnamed skeleton, whose stance was relaxed but eyes were watching with avid interest. Behind her, much farther down the street, the original skeleton—Killer—was tense and obviously ready to attack.

The obvious thing to do would be to break to the right, where there were no skeletons. There was a twitch, and just for a second Axe’s eye looked to her right before snapping back to her. Just for a second, but just long enough for Diana to catch the movement. He was expecting her to move to the right. Diana liked to think she was fast, but she had no idea what capabilities this skeleton had—especially since he had been able to appear suddenly behind her without her even noticing.

There was more room behind her, between her and Killer; she could try to dart off into an alley before he or Axe could get to her. But again, she had no idea how fast the skeletons were—and Killer could easily throw those knives glinting in his hand.

To the left, then? Would the dusty skeleton attack her, or watch the scene play out?

She couldn’t even count on her magic to help protect her; any spikes in her magic were sure to make her lose control to her other half at this point. Although, at this point…

_Let me out! Let me kill them!_

Maybe she had a better chance of survival if she did. He was going to wake up no matter what happened at this point; might as well let him burn off energy and do something productive with his mania for once.

_Yesyesyesyesyesyes it hurts, it hurts, IT HURTS let me OUT_

She had never willingly let it happen before. Diana wasn’t even sure how to let herself lose control.

_It’s easy, just let me **burn** **them**._

Axe apparently grew tired of her indecision and took matters into his own hands. Diana saw a blur of motion from the corner of her eye and suddenly the blade of his axe filled her field of vision. No time to dodge; instinctively, her hands flew up, summoning a wall of ice to block. Her magic was just in time—there was a shuddering crash when his axe hit the ice and stuck, and an angry yell behind her as Killer noticed the shenanigans of Axe.

Diana pivoted and dashed to her right, intending to get some distance between her and the murderous skeletons before trying to reorient herself. She caught a glimpse of Axe prying his axe free, and to her other side Killer launching himself forward with a maniacal grin, before she felt a _lurch_ in her soul and everything went dark.

An inhuman laugh, and a low whisper echoed inside her.

_Sleep, sister. I will take care of you._

_~~ ~~_ Time for a change of pace ~~ ~~

The day had started off great. Nightmare dropped them off in a neutral AU and told them to ‘have fun’ before taking Cross somewhere for an errand. Normally they weren’t allowed to let loose like this, but Nightmare apparently felt they had earned it.

Heh. Sometimes Killer wondered why Nightmare bothered pretending he didn’t care about his subordinates.

The three of them—the Murder Time Trio, as Blue had called them once to their great amusement—had split up, wandering off to different streets as so not to crowd each other and allow each of them to really let loose.

Screams and cries had filled his ears all morning, but sadly had died down as he killed off everyone in his immediate vicinity. He was going to have to expand his horizons soon. His soul throbbed in excitement at the prospect. All out slaughter was always enjoyable, but what Killer _really_ wanted was a hunt. Chasing down terrified prey into a dark alley, savoring their fear as they finally were backed into a corner or tripped and feeling that moment of defeat before his knife sank into their flesh…Killer shuddered in anticipation, feeling the liquid hate gush out of his eyes in a surge of emotion.

A shriek came out of the throat of his last victim before his knives plunged into her, cutting it short. Killer hummed to himself, already thinking about his next move as the body crashed to the ground at his feet. It had been a boring kill, one of the hundred from this morning with nothing to set it apart. Time to start hunting.

A scuff of a footstep down the street caught his attention—did he somehow miss someone? He looked up to see a female human stepping from one of the side streets and locked eyes with her. _Interesting._

She was relatively tall for a female human (at least, he assumed she was), with long, toned legs that promised Killer the possibility of a good chase. She had a disappointing lack of meat on her body—Axe would have turned his non-existent nose up at her.

Heh. As if Axe would pass up food.

Dark blue eyes regarded him in shock, her face frozen. He felt his grin widen. “Hey there,” he called out to her, noticing with glee the small flinch she tried to suppress. “You come to check out the party?”

It was difficult to make out due to the distance between them, but he saw her fingers twitch at her sides and her lips pressed together as if she were holding herself back. God, _please_ let her be a fighter. Or a runner. Killer chuckled, trying to rile her up a little more. “Got a problem, lady?” Her eyes flickered between his own gaze and the knife construct in his hands, the magic in the knife tingling his phalanges and longing to be buried in her flesh. “Why don’t you come over here and do something about it?”

Oh, she didn’t like that. To Killer’s delight, he saw a brief flash from her soul and a flicker of something at her hands before it was extinguished. _A mage._ In his sudden excitement, he didn’t notice the sudden glint in her eyes. All he could think about was what it would feel like to bury his knife into the soul of a mage, feel the surge of disgusting human magic around him before it was snuffed out—

And then Dust and Axe had to show up and ruin the fun.

Killer clicked his tongue in annoyance, watching the human and Axe stare each other down. Dust stood off to the side, watching in amusement. They were both watching the human’s soul, a calm and pale cyan heart denoting her as a **Patience** mage, throb and hum in anxiety from where it was buried in her chest as she weighed her options. Something seemed…off about her soul, though.

Axe had his axe— _heh_ —down by his side, clearly ready to strike. The human’s soul twisted and sparked, and to Killer’s consternation he saw it flash red several times before it was suppressed. From the cock of Dust’s head, he had seen it too.

The funny thing about mages—at least the formally trained, full-blooded mages—was that they possessed souls of one pure soul trait. That was what allowed them to utilize magic—if your soul had more than one soul trait, it tended to make summoning magic very complicated. It was also what made Sans—or rather, the original, shitty Sans—unique, in that he was able to easily utilize magic despite having both **Patience** and **Justice** in his soul. But for a human, it was one or none, so to speak.

But Killer was sure he had seen a flash of magic earlier. Maybe she was just a descendent of a mage who couldn’t properly utilize magic?

Oh well. She’d be dead soon enough and it wouldn’t matter. Killer scowled when he noticed that Axe was swinging his arm. Fucker didn’t even know how to play with his food—he was going to take all the fun out of it! Their first interesting kill of the day and Axe was just going to kill her in one swing. “Not yet, you—” His yell died in his throat when her soul flashed and a wall of ice sprang up in front of her.

Axe gave a frustrated snarl when his axe stuck fast in the ice, unable to break through in one chop. _Serves you right, idiot._ Killer grinned and started to move forward. So she _was_ a mage—maybe this would still be fun after all.

Dust still stood there, watching with interest. He didn’t seem inclined to interfere, his hands shoved in his pockets, so Killer paid him no mind.

Axe, on the other hand, was still very much in the game. He wrenched his hatchet free from the ice and whirled to face the human, who was scrambling away to her right. His eyelight was huge and bloated, taking up his entire socket as his bloodlust spiked. It flickered over to Killer, who flipped him the bird as Killer continued to advance on the two, and Axe’s grin grew manic. If Killer wasn’t careful, Axe might forget about the mage and go after him—and Nightmare wasn’t around to calm him down. This _was_ going to be a fun day.

The human looked between the two of them, eyes wide and chest heaving in a delicious display of adrenaline. Another flare of her soul drew Killer’s attention, and then to his confusion, her soul turned red and stayed that color. Her face slackened, and all three skeletons stared in bemusement as she suddenly dropped to her knees, eyes looking blankly forward.

Disappointing. Did she pass out from fear?

A long pause. Behind the two of them, Dust muttered something in response to his constant hallucination of his long-dead brother. Killer frowned. Her soul was still red, but she had definitely used the ice magic that was the signature of a formally trained **Patience** mage. Not to mention, why would it turn red with **Determination** if she was just going to pass out?

“Killer,” a growl to his left drew Killer’s attention back to Axe, who was glaring at him. “I called dibs. Back off.”

He sneered at the cannibal. “Fuck you, I found her first. Plus, I wanna see what happens when you stab a mage soul.”

“Spoiler alert, they die.”

Killer rolled his eyes—or, he would have, if his eyelights still worked. “You have no appreciation for the nuance of killing, do you?”

Axe gave him a sneer of his own. “I have an appreciation for your mom.”

A snicker from Dust was ignored by Killer, who snapped back, “You probably ate your mom, geek.” Another chortle from Dust, who was thoroughly enjoying the exchange.

Another laugh sounded in the empty street, drawing the attention of the three skeletons back to the fallen human. Her mouth was stretched into an inhuman smile, and a broken, stuttering laugh forced itself out of her mouth. Fingers flexed and twitched erratically at her sides, as if she were just discovering how to use them for the first time. Great, they broke her.

Killer turned back to face the human, ignoring Axe and Dust. “Finally awake, then, hum—” He stopped as her face tilted back up and he was able to see her eyes: Dull, emerald orbs that were unfocused and unseeing, looking out at nothing.

The human’s laugh subsided into unsettling, insane giggles, her eyes still rolling around in her head as her head lolled side to side. Finally her head stilled, and with much rocking and lurching, she rose back onto her feet. The three skeletons watched in utter confusion as she swayed side to side unsteadily, giggling the entire time.

Her tongue worked in her mouth for a moment, and her voice sounded out, guttural and halting. “It’s been a while,” she said, pausing to apparently figure out how lips worked. “Haven’t had full control in quite some time. So many individual muscles and tendons to control.” Drool slipped from the corner of her mouth, testament to her supposed difficulty controlling her body.

Dust groaned. “Oh great, a crazy mage.” He sighed. “The crazy ones are so annoying to kill.”

“They’re slippery,” Axe agreed, eyeing the human warily. “You still want this one, Killer?”

Killer was silent for once, watching the human as she finally stopped giggling. There was something more to this than just a mage going absolute batshit insane. If there was one thing Killer was intimately familiar with, it was murderous insanity—and this was something not quite the same.

“Ah,” the human suddenly grunted, her grin twisting into a grimace. “It still hurts.” Her hands twitched, coming up to scratch at her chest and face. “I thought it wouldn’t hurt if I took over. It still hurts.” She groaned. “Fuck. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts—"

“For fuck’s sake,” Dust groaned as the human continued to chant in increasing fervor. “Someone just fucking kill her already.”

Axe gave Killer a curious look, but when the serial killer didn’t move, he shrugged and stepped forward. He hefted his hatchet up and came closer to the human. She didn’t respond to the approaching threat, only continuing to tear at her own skin and iterate her insane chant. With another shrug, Axe grinned and swung his blade down at her neck, intending to behead her with one stroke.

The human’s mouth snapped shut and a blazing inferno of fire magic surged from her, thwarting Axe yet again. Flames licked at his jacket and phalanges as he swore and twisted away.

For just a moment, her eyes fixated on him before losing focus again. “Don’t you touch her.” One hand snapped forward, fingers itching to summon more magic as the other hand dug furrows into the skin of her chest. “Ah, it hurts. But that felt good.” She smiled again, seeming to gain more control over her muscles. “Burning you. That was nice. Let me try that again.”

She took a step toward Axe, another surge of flames flickering at her outstretched hand—and promptly fell forward flat on her face. “Ah.” Her legs twitched. “Oops. Hold on.”

Dust laughed out loud. “I don’t understand what’s going on but that was hilarious.”

Axe finally beat out the last of the fire from the hood of his jacket and approached the human again. His grin was stuck on his face in a snarling display of sharp teeth. “That was a **sick burn** , human, but you’re **toast** now.”

His tattered slipper brushed against her head, her dark hair falling in a curtain over her face where she lay on the ground. “Hold on,” she mumbled. “I’ll be with you in a moment.” Her limbs scrabbled against the pavement as she tried to figure out how to get back up.

“Oh no, don’t get up on my account.” Axe growled, and his arm swung down at her prone figure.

More flames erupted from her, this time managing to catch Axe’s slippers on fire. “Motherfucker!” Axe yelped, his rising anger not helped in the slightest by Dust’s cackles in the background.

“I told you to hold on,” the human grunted, finally managing to push herself back to her feet. Her knees gave out on her again, but she quickly figured out how to stay upright, heedless of Axe stamping out the flames at his feet and cursing wildly.

Killer finally stirred, eyes locked onto her soul. It was still a solid crimson, and her continued use of fire magic solidified the theory forming in his head. The human’s head twitched toward him at the sound of his approach. “Hey,” Killer called out to her, and her head cocked in curiosity. “You’re not the same person, are you?” A pause, and then a grin spread across her face as Killer elaborated. “I mean, you’re not the original soul. That much is obvious. So what’s your deal?”

Axe and Dust quieted at the revelation. The human was silent for a long moment, her twitches growing more exaggerated. She stepped toward Killer, seeming to contemplate her answer before her face twisted in agony. A whirling inferno whipped out at Killer, who saw it coming from the flare of her soul and dodged easily.

“Heh. Got a real **flare** for the dramatic, huh?” Killer said, receiving only a groan in response. “Well, doesn’t like I’ll be getting an answer to that. So let’s get to what we all came here for.” A gush of hate down his face at his sudden spike in excitement, and his knives twirled in his hands.

The human didn’t answer him. She seemed to have lost any lucidity she had gained since her awakening, swaying on her feet and head rocking side to side again. Her face was contorted in a crazed grimace. “It hurts,” she wailed, suddenly, heedless of Killer launching himself at her. “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, _I just want it to **stop!**_ ” A knife buried itself into her shoulder and an inhuman shriek of anger was ripped from her chest. Killer saw the flare of magic coming and easily dodged her attack, laughing at her rage.

She fell mercifully silent, _finally_ , and her mouth flattened into a thin line. Her eyes remained unfocused, and Killer wondered if it was because whoever was in control couldn’t figure out the complexities of sight. No time to continue his musings, as more flames were coming at him. Finally, some action.

Killer sidestepped her attack and launched another barrage of knives, knowing that she didn’t have enough control over her body to dodge all of the knives—or honestly, _any_ of them. This would be over quickly. Much to his surprise, then, another wall of ice manifested itself in front of her, his knives clattering uselessly against the solid surface and falling to the ground before dissipating.

There were a lot of impossible things happening right now, but this really took the cake. Humans just _didn’t_ have two types of magic; they could either have one or the other. Maybe if the magic types were complementary, he could see someone pulling them off, but two types as opposing as ice and fire were not possible for even someone as unique as Sans. This put a damper in his theory of two opposing souls in the same body—it would make sense if there was a separate **Patience** soul and a **Determination** soul somehow sharing the same body, and only one could have control at the same time. But that would mean she could only use one type of magic at a time, and Killer had been watching her soul throughout their encounter. Right now, as it had been for the past few minutes, the soul was still solidly red.

“It might be a Cross-type of situation,” Dust mused out loud, spectating the fight with no intention of intervening but with the same academic interest as Killer. Killer considered that as he dodged another barrage of flames. That _would_ make more sense—it would still be two different soul types sharing a body, and account for the different, simultaneous magics. But with Cross, you could see both halves at the same time, regardless of who was in control, whereas this soul seemed to be either solidly one color at a given point in time.

Axe didn’t have the same interest in the complexities of the human’s situation as his two companions, and was instead heedlessly swinging his hatchet in another attempt to behead her. This time he accounted for the ice that rose to block his attack, and put enough force in it to break through the ice in one go. “Hate to **shatter** your expectations, but that won’t work on me again,” he sneered, already moving into a follow-up swing.

On the other side of the human, Killer was skirting the ice barrier and coming at her with his own attack. His soul roared throughout his body with delighted bloodlust, thrilling at an actual challenge from someone other than one of the Star Sans.

The human was talking again, but it was a continuation of her usual mindless complaints of pain. Her voice rose and fell as she fell to her knees and clawed at her face. “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts it hurts _it hurts it hurts ITHURTS I JUST WANT TO KILL YOU, LET ME KILL YOU, LET ME **SLEEP FOR ONCE** —”_

Distracted by her sudden screaming, Killer didn’t notice the change in attack until it was too late, and felt a surge of ice magic before he was frozen solid in a block of ice. He could see through the distorted lens of the ice, and could hear Dust’s muffled laughter, but despite his tolerance to extreme temperature found himself unable to move. How embarrassing.

Axe, fortunately, had better instincts and dodged the attack, though his hatchet shared the same fate as Killer and became lodged in ice. Axe didn’t have the luxury of time to pry it free this time, and was forced to abandon it to dodge more frost magic. His eye flickered to Killer, and he allowed himself to feel immense amusement at Killer’s frozen glare before he was engulfed in flames.

And so, it was an absolute debacle that Nightmare found himself surveying as he slipped into existence. Killer frozen in a block of ice, Axe rolling on the ground on fire amidst a colorful array of swears and curses, Dust rolling on the ground himself laughing until he cried, and a human screaming bloody murder to the sky. At his side, Cross gaped at the spectacle.

“ **What in the absolute hell is going on here.** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this chapter ended up being a lot longer than I intended. I tend to have a loquacious method of writing--you may be able to tell, but I have a very bad habit of run-on sentences. I also tried my best not to drag this chapter out, but I still fear it dragged a bit. Ah well. I just really like writing the dialogue between the Murder Bois (and I'm not very good at writing fight scenes--which half this chapter was! woo). Let me know what you think! Also let me know if you have any ideas or feedback for future chapters--I have a loose idea of the overall plot of this story, but welcome ideas.
> 
> Next chapter: we find out what Diana's deal is, and who her other soul belongs to. (Y'all got any of your own theories???) Nightmare gives Diana an offer she can't refuse!


	2. First Impressions, Take Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare enjoys a snack and decides to take the rest of his meal to-go. We find out what Diana's deal is. Nightmare finds out what Diana's deal is. We spend more time with Cross than I originally planned but he is an adorable cinnamon roll so what are you gonna do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a pretty calm week for me so I'm actually getting a ton of writing done! Figure I might as well get it done while I've got time, and you get to reap the benefits.
> 
> I even had enough time to break out the tablet and actually doodle for the first time since like, high school when I used to draw stupid little stick figure comics to amuse myself. Really getting back to my roots here, so I give you this (https://imgur.com/a/KnVRFTp).
> 
> Actually, I think I might draw a little doodle similar to that with each new chapter to answer a question from the previous chapter, just to try to spice things up! So, feel free to ask whatever questions you'd like me to answer in the comments, and as long as it doesn't involve spoilers or personal information I'll do my best to give an answer.

Nightmare looked at the scene before him with great displeasure. He had left his subordinates in this AU to keep them entertained while he and Cross scouted out potential new targets, and at this moment the only one who seemed to be enjoying themselves was Dust who was howling with laughter.

Normally he had no issues leaving the boys to their own devices at the castle, but they had been relatively small pains in his ass lately so he thought for once he’d be generous and give them a vacation. _Clearly_ that had been a mistake.

With a scowl, he kicked Dust in the ribs as he lay on the ground giggling. “ **Dust. _Dust._** ” Dust finally looked up at him and was able to control his laughter long enough to make eye contact. “ **What in blazes is going on?** ”

Dust gave a few more chortles as Nightmare glared down at him before he finally composed himself. Wiping a tear from his socket (and managing to smear more blood and dust on his cheek), Dust sat up and turned to face his disgruntled boss. “Killer and Axe found this mage,” he explained, pointing to the human who was kneeling between the two incapacitated skeletons and screaming mindlessly. Magic flared wildly around her, flickering between fire and ice at random. “And they both started to fight her, but she suddenly went nuts and kicked their asses. And here we are.”

“That was a terrible explanation,” Cross spoke up, having joined Nightmare to look down at Dust. “Why is she, uh,” He made a vague gesture at the still screaming human. “Why is she doing…whatever this is?”

Dust shrugged. “I dunno. She passed out as soon as Axe attacked her, and since she woke up her soul changed color and she’s been screaming pretty much the entire time.” He grimaced. “It’s been really annoying.”

Nightmare spared another glance at the human. He had only been here for five minutes and he was already fed up with the noise. Though Dust had said something interesting. “ **I was under the impression that mages’ souls can’t change colors.** ”

“Yeah…me and Killer were trying to figure that out—”

“You mean Killer and I.”

“Shut up Cross. _Killer and I_ were trying to figure it out; it looks like there’s two souls in there but that’s as far as we got before she put Killer _on ice_.” Dust giggled again at another glance at Killer, who was still frozen. He looked back up at Nightmare. “You want me to take a whack at her, boss?”

“ **Hmm.** ” Nightmare eyed the human curiously. “ **I haven’t encountered many mages. Most AUs don’t have full-blooded mages. Let me take a closer look at it.** ”

Dust relaxed, glad for an excuse not to do anything. “Sure thing, boss. Watch out though, she’s pretty fond of setting us on fire.”

“ **Don’t be stupid. Do I look like I’m flammable?** ” Nightmare sneered, and stepped forward to approach the human. One of his tentacles gave Dust a light slap to the back of the head as he passed. Dust blinked and looked at Cross.

“Was that a real question?”

Cross gave him an exasperated look. “Really?”

“Well, I mean, all that goop looks really oily. Oil is flammable.”

“….” Cross was at a loss for words. Mainly because he didn’t want to admit he had that same train of thought.

The human quieted at Nightmare’s approach, thankfully, and her head turned to face him. He noticed, as Killer had, that her eyes remained unfocused and glazed over. As Dust had theorized, she was clearly not in control of herself.

“ **Human.** ” Nightmare deigned to address the mage, a rarity in any AU. “ **You may show me your magic. I’m curious to see what human mages consider to be magic.** ”

“It hurts,” she complained. Nightmare heard Dust groan behind him.

“She’s been saying that non-stop since she woke up.”

“It _hurts_ ,” The human repeated, and rocked back and forth as she built herself up into another fervor. “It hurts it hurts it hurts IT _HURTS—_ ”

Nightmare’s tentacles whipped forward, one snaking around her throat and the others restraining her limbs. Her throat was suddenly constricted, cutting off her shrieks. “ **That’s enough of that. Now, show me your magic.** ” There was a rasping as she continued to try to scream, and suddenly the air around them crackled before flames engulfed the both of them. Nightmare eyed the fire licking at his goop-covered frame curiously. When Nightmare made no show of responding to her flames, she changed tactics and summoned ice to surround them.

“ **I was not aware humans could use two types of magic,** ” Nightmare said bemusedly, admiring his reflection in the surface of the ice.

“They’re not supposed to be able to,” Cross called out from a safe distance. Dust rolled his eyes and muttered something about a ‘teacher’s pet’.

Spikes of ice suddenly burst from their surrounding wall, impaling Nightmare in multiple places. Despite Cross and Dust jumping to their feet in alarm, Nightmare merely regarded the shards piercing his body with great interest. “ **Curious.** ” He poked at a shard, humming.

Axe finally put out the flames that had engulfed his body and lay on the ground, panting. He glanced at his boss and the human, decided that Nightmare had the situation under control, and decided to pass out.

Cross and Dust were a tad more engaged in the situation than Axe. Nightmare’s sudden good mood had them both utterly confused, until Cross noticed the tentacles wrapped around the human were pulsing in a manner that he was very unpleasantly familiar with. Nightmare was feeding off her, and probably wasn’t even aware he was doing it. He nudged Dust and pointed, and Dust caught on immediately.

“Makes sense,” Dust said. “She doesn’t seem to be having a great time, so he’s probably got a ton of negativity to feed on.”

At that remark, Nightmare looked back at the human, still wrapped in his tentacles. Her eyes were starting to droop, and he finally noticed that he had been unconsciously snacking. “ **Pardon the intrusion,** ” he chuckled. “ **I suppose I just couldn’t help myself.** ”

Her magic faded, and lured into a state of calm from her sudden lack of negativity, her eyes closed. To Nightmare’s bemusement, her soul changed from the erratically pulsing crimson to a calm cyan as she lost consciousness. Any lingering flames dissipated, and the ice that still impaled Nightmare and encased Killer melted. Killer dropped to the ground with an undignified grunt.

“Fuck,” Killer groaned. “None of you assholes thought to try to break me out of that?”

“Nope,” Dust said cheerily.

“Whatever. Jerks.” Killer looked around and took notice of his boss and his failed entertainment. “Oh, you knocked her out. Want me to kill her?” His voice was eager, fueled by his irritation at being frozen for what felt like an eternity.

Nightmare stared down at the human for a long moment. His subordinates looked on in curiosity, no way of knowing what thoughts lurked in the head of the malevolent skeleton. This was the longest Nightmare had been in the presence of a human without ordering one of the boys to dispose of them. His tentacles continued to pulse, feeding him whatever negativity still lingered in her soul. Finally Nightmare stirred, all tentacles except one unwinding from around her. He turned to face the others, her body hovering behind him thanks to the tentacle wrapped around her waist. “ **This is quite an interesting human you’ve found, Killer.** ” He purred, prompting a confused look from Killer. “ **Not to mention that was a…satisfying snack. I’m interested to see more of her human magic.** ”

The three skeletons gaped at him.

“That must have been some snack,” Killer cracked, earning a glare from Nightmare.

“ **If you must know, it was. Better than anything you idiots have ever procured for me. If you’re really that bent out of shape over it, I’m sure you’ll find some use for her in the castle.** ” Snickering from both Dust and Killer elicited a sigh from him. “ **A use that doesn’t involve killing her.** ” More snickering. “ **I’m quite sure I don’t want to know what else you’re thinking of.** ” Cross just looked lost, the amusement of the other two completely flying over his head.

“Oh!” Cross said suddenly, an idea coming to him. “She could clean the castle!” Normally Cross took it upon himself to keep the castle relatively in order, but the other three sometimes derived their entertainment from constantly thwarting his cleaning attempts. He smiled at the thought of delegating the thankless task to some idiot human.

“ **Whatever keeps her out of trouble. Wake up the glutton and let’s return to the castle.** ”

“M’wake,” Axe mumbled, trying to make himself sit up. His clothes were singed and covered in soot, and he looked decidedly crispy.

Nightmare dumped the human into Cross’s arms and focused on opening a portal. He wasn’t too worried about his brother noticing their shenanigans in a neutral AU—they’d have to really go on a rampage to stir up enough negativity to catch Dream’s attention—but Nightmare wasn’t keen on spending more time in this AU then was necessary. The portal opened, revealing the throne room of his castle. “ **Let’s go.** ”

~~ ~~

It was blessedly silent. Diana relished the silence, allowing herself to float in the darkness of her unconscious mind. She tried not to think about _why_ she was here, but as always, unwelcome memories flowed into her.

Flashes of her childhood—studying with the elders, running through the halls of her family’s estate, learning how to harness her magic—all of them featuring her twin brother laughing and smiling by her side.

Diana and Apollo—the names had been a bit on the nose, but they fit the twins perfectly. Diana had always been calm and quiet, her magic taking on the soothing nature of **Patience** similar to her namesake—the goddess of the moon and the night. In contrast, Apollo was loud and exuberant, his magic taking on his fiery nature of **Determination**. Inseparable throughout their childhood, they had both grown up to be mages admired by everyone in their family. True mages were rare in modern times as bloodlines thinned, despite their family’s extensive history, and two in one generation had been viewed as nothing short of a miracle.

It was a long-standing governmental decree that all mages were required to serve at least five years in the military. Very rarely was the rule actually enforced, mainly because there were very rarely any actual mages for the military to conscript. But the success of the twin mages had been so widely heralded that there was no hiding them, and the twins had found themselves in the military.

Fortunately, it turned out to be a largely ceremonial role. The twins were paraded around the country—literally at certain times—put on display as the pride and joy of the military. Strong mages capable of feats no mere human could, and a not very subtle reminder to the monsters on the surface that humans were still capable of keeping them under control. Toward the end of their service, the twins became almost celebrities due to their constant social presence.

It also helped that the two of them were charming and visually appealing—both of them tall and physically fit, young and full of energy. Diana tried to avoid attention, naturally withdrawn, but Apollo thrived in the spotlight. He was what their mother fondly referred to as ‘classically handsome’: healthy and tanned with thick, wavy dark brown hair, a strong chin, and just enough muscles to make girls swoon when he lifted the edge of his shirt to wipe away sweat. People gravitated toward Apollo; true to his namesake, he shone bright like the sun and blessed all those close to him with warmth and positivity.

She could feel Apollo’s emotions raging outside of her awareness, his rage and pain coming to the surface now that he was awake and in control. As always, his pain elicited a surge of guilt from Diana. It was because of her rash decision that he had to suffer constantly—that they both had to suffer.

A split second decision that had ruined everything.

It had been the last year of their mandatory service. Apollo had been talking of extending it, but Diana was adamant that she wanted to return home. It was looking as if the twins may for the first time in their lives go separate paths. That summer had taken the matter out of their hands.

_A hot summer day. The sun beat down on them as they walked through the village; some monster outpost in the middle of nowhere where monsters had tried to establish their own lifestyle free from humans and their discrimination. Diana was sweating profusely in the thick material of their ceremonial uniform, but Apollo walked at her side seemingly unaffected by the oppressive heat._

_They were there for “Public Relations”, but both they and the monsters knew they were there as a reminder to the monsters that even out here in the boondocks, the humans were in control._

_She was more than aware of the hostile glares most of the monsters regarded them with, and she was sure Apollo, despite his carefree demeanor, could feel the barely restrained malice as well. The twins had both insisted that this was a terrible idea to their superiors, and had suggested that they at least be assigned a larger security detail, but their protests and suggestions had all been dismissed as paranoia. The monsters were subhuman creatures who wouldn’t dare rise up against their superiors._

_Never mind that their superior officers were used to monsters who resided in human cities and were much more friendly and acclimated to humans. Monsters who refused to live with humans were not nearly as friendly as their urban counterparts, and still harbored great resentment for their previous confinement underground—regardless of whatever pretty speeches their precious ambassador Frisk gave._

_“Let’s just get this over with and get out of here,” Diana said to Apollo quietly, who nodded in agreement. The two privates accompanying them on this trip trailed behind them, trying not to show their own nervousness at the open hostility in the village._

_All they had to do was walk around the village, shake the hands of any villagers who actually wanted to interact with them, and take a few pictures. In and out._

_Out of the corner of her eye, Diana saw the mayor of the village—a large bear monster who had been relatively friendly, at least relative to everyone else—watching them with tense features. He had greeted them politely, but had told them flat out they should leave as soon as possible. “We’re not particularly fond of mages,” he told them bluntly. “If it weren’t for the risk of bringing down the wrath of your military, I’m sure some of my more…rash residents would attack you on sight. I’ve talked to everyone and made sure we’re all on the same page, but the longer you’re here the greater the risk.”_

_No need to tell them that, honestly. All four of the humans were well aware of the ill-restrained hatred from the residents._

_Apollo stopped short, suddenly, his attention drawn to the sidewalk. When he left her side, Diana glanced over to see what had captured his attention._

_A small bunny monster had tripped and scraped her knee, it seemed, and was sitting on the sidewalk sniffling. Diana looked around but couldn’t see anyone that looked like her parent in the vicinity._

_Apollo kneeled by the child and smiled at her, her teary eyes watching him with trepidation. “Did you hurt your knee?” he asked softly. She nodded slowly. He gave her another winning smile, and Diana huffed in amusement as the bunny gave him a small smile in return. Typical Apollo, able to charm even the orneriest of creatures._

_“Lucky for you,” Apollo told her, hands hovering over her knee. “I know a little healing magic. I’ll have you fixed up in a flash.” He winked, and the bunny giggled. A bright, red glow emanated from his hands as they lowered to her knee._

_Suddenly, a shriek pierced the air. “Get away from her!” The mother had finally made her appearance, and rounded a corner to see a human—a_ **_mage_ ** _—looming over her child on the ground. Apollo turned, startled, and the mother screamed at the sight of his magic manifesting near her child._

_A large wolf monster who had been standing nearby whirled around, panting and snarling wildly in response to the panicked screams of the mother. He saw Apollo and came to the same conclusion as the mother. “Filthy mage!” With a roar, he launched himself at Apollo, a raging mass of claws and teeth._

_Apollo stumbled back, hesitating for the first time in his life. He couldn’t dare attack and risk incurring the wrath of the rest of the village—already the other monsters were gathering and watching with promises of violence. He opened his mouth to protest, but made the fatal mistake of raising his hands, still pulsing with magic, and the watching monsters took the gesture as one of violence. The crowd surged forward, encircling him and blocking him from view of Diana and the soldiers._

_Diana went to move forward to protect him, but found her path obstructed by several monsters who were eyeing her suspiciously. The soldiers caught up to her and pulled her back, flanking her on either side protectively._

_All she could do was watch helplessly over the shoulders of the crowd as the wolf lunged at Apollo. Apollo was able to sidestep the wolf, but tripped over the forgotten child still sitting petrified at his feet. He sprawled out on the ground, unable to move in time to avoid the wolf. Diana screamed as fangs closed down on his throat._

_The mayor forced his way through the growing crowd and grabbed the wolf, shaking him roughly until the wolf finally released Apollo. “_ **_Idiot!_ ** _” The mayor yelled at him. “What have you done?!”_

_The bloodlust faded from the wolf’s eyes. He looked down at Apollo at his feet, blood pooling beneath him, and the severity of his actions hit him. “I—”_

_“I can’t protect you from this,” The mayor said desperately. “I told you—I told you all not to…this is…” Murmurs rose from the crowd, as the monsters realized what this meant. Their village was doomed._

_“Apollo!” Diana cried. “_ **_Apollo!_ ** _Let me through!” She pushed at the monsters, who snarled at her but let her pass. Ignoring the mayor and the wolf monster still standing over her brother’s body, she dropped to his side. Her eyes focused on the paleness of his normally tan skin tone, and the halted, stuttering rise and fall of his chest as his breathing slowed. “No,” she sobbed. “No no no no_ **_no_ ** _, you can’t—”_

_Her hands pressed against the gaping, ragged wounds in his throat, her own healing magic flowing through her into him. The wounds slowly, so slowly shrank and sealed, but not even healing magic could replace the sheer amount of blood lost in such a short amount of time. His breathing continued to slow, and his eyes struggled to focus on his twin. His mouth moved, soundlessly, unable to voice whatever last words he wanted to impart. Diana’s vision blurred with tears as she struggled to control her emotions._

_“Miss…” The mayor said hesitantly, a paw lowering to her shoulder. She slapped his paw away with an angry cry and he jerked back._

_“Leave. Now.” Her voice was broken, but the message was clear. The surrounding monsters realized that it was not a good idea to stay close to an emotional mage—let alone one whose sibling they had just murdered—and quickly dispersed._

_The street was soon abandoned, the three remaining humans the only life in the quiet._

_Diana spoke up again, addressing the soldiers standing awkwardly behind her. “Go back to the truck and get ready to leave.”_

_“But…what about…”_

_“I’ll be there. Get the truck ready.” They still hesitated, and her voice became tired. “If any monsters attack me, I’ll make sure they regret it.”_

_The soldiers shared a worried look, but ultimately obeyed. They hurried off down the street, to the village entrance where the military vehicle had been left. Neither of them knew how long the villagers would leave the humans alone, but they didn’t want to risk a monster getting the idea to try to finish off the only remaining mage in the country. Best to leave now while the monsters were still spooked._

_Diana stared despondently at the cooling body of her twin brother. His breathing finally slowed to a stop, despite the healing magic she still pushed futilely into his body. Apollo was dying._

_No. Apollo was dead. A ragged sob shook her._

_In sheer desperation, she pulled at his soul. Maybe, if she could bolster his HP, she could keep him alive long enough for her healing magic to actually have any benefit. It was weak and faded, but his red heart soon floated above his still chest. The crimson faded before her eyes as she watched, flickering slightly in response to the magic she pushed into it._

_His soul was warm in her hands. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged him. His soul flickered again at the plea, and she stared. He was still there. He could still hear her. If she couldn’t save his body…then…maybe. No._

_But if she could save his soul…maybe she could just keep it inside her long enough to put it in his body after she could find someone to fix it._ **_Apollo didn’t have to leave. He would never leave her._ **

_She knew it was possible to merge souls. It was some of the reason monsters feared humans—the possibility of a human gaining a Boss monster soul and taking it into the human soul was a legend feared by even the strongest of monsters. But a human taking in another human soul?_

_Apollo flickered again, fading further, and she realized she didn’t have any more time to think. Before she could listen to the voice in the back of her head screaming at her that this was a terrible, taboo idea, she opened her mouth and swallowed Apollo’s soul._

_Diana didn’t remember anything after that._

~~ ~~

Everything was dark when Diana awoke. For a second, she thought that it was still the memory of awakening after her horrible decision. As her eyes adjusted, though, she noticed that her surroundings were unfamiliar—this was not a memory.

The next thing she noticed was that Apollo was dead silent, fast asleep within her. He must have tired himself out with his rampage. Diana could never remember anything that happened when Apollo was awake; all she could ever dredge up was faint recollections of pain and despair.

That was the true reason for her guilt; she had saved her brother’s soul, but after she returned to her family she had found to her despair that his soul was inseparable from hers. To add to her misery, his existence was constant pain; every moment that his soul was awake was spent in excruciating pain. Over the years, the unrelenting torture had twisted his soul into a bitter shell, and Apollo was determined to take out his rage and misery on the waking world. Diana did her best to keep him asleep for the majority of the time, but each year she found him waking more and more frequently.

The creaking of a door tore her out of her self-depreciating reverie. Diana looked up and realized that she was in what appeared to be some kind of cell; stone walls surrounded her on three sides, and in front of her were metal bars. She was splayed out on a cold, unforgiving stone floor, but at the sound of footsteps coming closer she forced herself to sit up.

A new skeleton stood in front of the metal bars—what was with all the skeleton monsters today? This skeleton was dressed differently from the other three she had encountered, straps and belts crisscrossing all over his body in a confusing mess of black and white. A red scar outlined the bottom of his right eye socket, and steady white eyelights regarded her cautiously.

Diana returned his stare, gathering her legs underneath her to rest on her knees. Her shoulder throbbed, and her throat was achingly sore, almost as if she had been strangled at some point. Ignoring the numerous aches and pains throughout her, she remained quiet and waited for the skeleton to say something.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was quiet, much calmer in comparison to his companions—at least, Diana assumed he was associated with those other three assholes. Eyelights wandered over her, gauging her physical status.

She considered remaining obstinately silent, but ultimately Diana decided that she wouldn’t gain anything from being difficult. “Like shit.” Diana allowed herself to look down at her body, trying to see if she had any injuries. A bloody tear in her sleeve drew her attention, and she realized the throbbing pain in her shoulder was from a stab wound. Great. “I think I was stabbed.”

“Well, you went up against Killer so that’s probably true.” The skeleton seemed surprised to hear her answer, continuing to eye her warily. “You uh…you still crazy?”

Diana gave him a flat look. He coughed. “Sorry. Uh.” His expression was sheepish before he controlled his face. “Well, I guess I’ll let Nightmare know you’re awake. Um. I’ll be back?” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and made a hasty exit. Diana sighed and shifted around until she sat with her back against a wall. Bringing a hand up against her throat, she winced at what felt like a bruise wrapping around her neck. She had definitely been strangled. What the heck had happened while Apollo was in control?

She considered asking him, but it was not worth waking him back up. _Nothing_ was worth putting him through the pain of waking him up, she thought bitterly. Allowing herself to probe carefully around his soul, she was bemused to find that he was sleeping more deeply than she could recall in a very long time. She couldn’t even feel him dreaming. Well, at least there was _something_ positive about this experience.

~~

The door creaked open again, and Diana realized with a start that she had dozed off. Her shoulder throbbed angrily at the sudden movement. Two steps of footsteps this time. She reluctantly opened her eyes to see two skeletons standing at the bars.

One of them was the black and white one from a few minutes ago, still watching her guardedly. In his hands was a plate with some kind of sandwich; Diana couldn’t quite make it out from where she sat. The other—Diana almost groaned out loud. _Another_ skeleton.

This one was the most alien out of all the skeletons so far. While he retained a form and outfit similar to the first three—a hoodie and basketball shorts, and to her amusement he was even clad in fuzzy slippers—black, oily sludge dripped from every inch of his being, coating both his bones and his clothes in a layer of dripping ooze. Four thick tentacles undulated lazily behind him, originating from his lumbar spine underneath his hoodie. A single, cyan eyelight regarded her with calm arrogance.

“ **Are you awake?** ” His voice was a startling deep baritone that resonated in her bones. Diana paused, both due to the shock that ran through her at his voice and the redundant nature of his question. He rolled his eye at her obvious confusion. “ **You were clearly not conscious in the city. You’re making eye contact with me now, so I presume you’re actually aware of your surroundings now?** ”

Ah. They had realized that she hadn’t quite been herself, so to speak. Diana nodded, not trusting her voice not to break yet. Every word that came out of him seemed to make her very soul shake. He hummed thoughtfully at her affirmation. “ **Good. I was concerned that we had taken in a basket case. Are you capable of an actual conversation?** ” She nodded again, and his gaze flattened in disapproval.

“She can talk, boss,” The other skeleton spoke up. “I think she’s just uh, out of it.”

An exasperated sigh came out of the goopy skeleton. “ **Humans are pathetic, I suppose.** ” He turned to the black and white skeleton. “ **Make her presentable and bring her to the throne room when you’re done.** ” The other skeleton nodded, and the dark skeleton left the dungeon. The atmosphere lightened immediately, and Diana released the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. It felt as if a pressure had been lifted from her as soon as he had left.

A screech of a hinge, and the skeleton monster was in the cell with her. His eyelights never left her, and Diana knew that even if she felt like trying to overpower him that he was almost waiting for her to attack. His guard was very obviously up.

“You’re hurt, right?” he asked, not bothering to wait for her answer before bringing the plate up to her eye level. Diana was finally able to discern the sandwich to be a simple ham and cheese sandwich. “It’s monster food. The magic will help you heal faster.”

Diana already knew that, but she didn’t feel the need to say anything. Better for these monsters to underestimate her if it came down to a battle—though she got the feeling that Apollo had already shown them quite a bit of what she was capable of. She took the sandwich gratefully and started eating, to the skeleton’s obvious relief.

She chewed for a long time, the thick cheese sticking stubbornly to the roof of her mouth before she was finally able to get it down her throat. Already she could feel the magic infused in the sandwich working to relieve her numerous aches. She paused before her next bite. “Thanks.” Her voice was hoarse and came out with much difficulty, her throat agonizingly sore.

The skeleton blinked at the sound of her voice, and it took a second for her word to register. To her amusement, he looked almost like he was about to blush. He looked away—though Diana noticed he still didn’t drop his guard—and muttered something into his scarf that sounded like “Don’t mention it.”

A long, awkward silence fell over the two of them as Diana finished the sandwich. Her chewing was loud in her ears, making her feel self-conscious, but it didn’t seem to bother the skeleton. Finally, the last of the sandwich disappeared down her throat. “Is there any chance I could get some water?” she asked hopefully. Her throat burned at the reminder of how dehydrated she was.

“Oh!” The skeleton looked startled, then almost embarrassed that he hadn’t considered the possibility of her being thirsty. “Yeah—yeah I’ll get you a water.” Diana was very thankful that this skeleton had been assigned to her; he seemed downright pleasant in comparison to the other three. She had no doubt if she asked the knife-happy skeleton—Killer, she reminded herself—for water he would have laughed in her face.

The skeleton seemed to consider her for a long moment before coming to a conclusion. “Actually…come with me. Nightmare said to make you presentable, so you probably should take a shower.”

Diana looked down at herself again and found herself agreeing with him. Her clothes were absolutely filthy, drenched in sweat and splattered with blood, soot, and dust. Her hair felt thick and matted—she winced at the thought of trying to run a comb through it. No doubt she smelled atrocious. If he was offering a shower, she was not going to turn it down, even if he insisted on watching her in the shower or made some other unreasonable demand.

Pushing herself to her feet, she took a moment to steady herself. Even with the magic of the monster food bolstering her stamina, she felt drained. Nevertheless, she forced herself to follow the skeleton out of the cell and into the adjacent hallway.

They walked down the long hallway, and Diana made sure to look at her surroundings as they progressed. From the casual elegance of the banners and lamps lining the hall, and the plush runner that cushioned the stone floor, Diana presumed they were in either a mansion or a castle. She eyed the stone walls. Definitely a castle.

After a short walk, the skeleton stopped at a door. He glanced at her. “I’ll let you use my shower this time,” he told her, unlocking the door and pushing it open. “Try not to get it too dirty.”

“Thanks,” Diana said again, hiding her smile when he flushed dark purple and looked away.

“It’s—it’s just because Nightmare told me to,” he grumbled. Before she could say anything, he ushered her into the bedroom towards another door. Diana didn’t have time to get a good look at anything in his room before he was pushing her into the bathroom. “Go ahead and use the shower,” he instructed her. “I’ll go grab your water.” He paused. “Oh, and a change of clothes I guess.”

Diana nodded at him and he gave her a measuring look. “Don’t bother trying to escape,” he warned her. “Even if you could make it out of the castle, there’s nowhere to go outside.”

She shrugged in response. Honestly, she had no desire to make a break for it at this point in time. Diana had no idea where she was, what had happened while she was out, or what in the hell was going on. All she wanted was to take a shower, change her clothes, and find out what the deal was with all these damn skeletons.

With another suspicious look, the skeleton closed the bathroom door. Thankfully, he didn’t seem intent on watching her get naked or any of her other fears. What a reasonable skeleton. Diana gratefully peeled her clothing off and turned the water on in the shower; she had dressed comfortably for a casual fall morning with a simple black sweatshirt and capri leggings, and it ended up being an appropriate outfit for an impromptu apocalypse. Thankfully she wasn’t attached to this outfit—as filthy as it was, Diana suspected she would end up burning it. Throwing the clothes into a heap in the corner of the bathroom, she checked the temperature of the shower. Satisfied that it was hot enough for her, Diana stepped into the stream.

She sighed in relief. There really was no better feeling than a steaming hot shower. Thinking about it, though, Diana wondered why a skeleton would even have a shower, let alone a bathroom. She glanced around the shower curtain—yep, there was even a toilet. Curious. To her knowledge, monsters didn’t have to suffer the inconveniences of voiding excrement or urine; they converted their food directly into energy and magic.

Well, best not to think about it too hard. Diana glanced around, and didn’t see any shampoo or conditioner. At least that made sense—she didn’t know what she would have thought if a skeleton had shampoo in his shower. There was a simple, unscented bar of soap, but Diana didn’t feel bold enough to use a bar of soap that a monster had presumably rubbed all over his body. Did skeletons have private bits? She shuddered. Stop thinking about it.

Diana felt much better just being able to scrub the majority of the filth from her, even without the aid of soap. On second thought, she decided to lather her hands up with the bar of soap and use it to get rid of the lingering dirt. Hopefully she didn’t come out of this smelling like skeleton privates.

The click of a door closing caught her attention over the sound of the shower. His voice was hesitant, probably trying not to startle her. “I’ve got your clothes and a glass of water. I’ll leave them on the sink.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She heard the door click closed again. Satisfied with her level of cleanliness, Diana shut off the shower stream and stepped out. First things first—she chugged the glass of water with impressive speed, feeling the cool rush of water rejuvenate her. She sighed in relief, pouring herself another glass from the sink and downing that one as well.

With that out of the way, she turned to the pile of clothes resting by where the glass of water had been and—

She stared, wondering if she was hallucinating. _Was that a fucking maid outfit?_

It was. It was a maid outfit. She picked through it. It even included black stockings and black dress shoes. Was this a skeleton practical joke or something? Were they trying to see if she would put up a fight about it?

Diana sighed. Well, she definitely wasn’t putting her filthy clothes back on her nice, clean body. Nothing to do but take what she was given.

Lord, it even came with a frilly little apron.

~~ ~~

Restraining her grumpiness, Diana stepped out of the bathroom to where her skeletal guard was waiting patiently outside the door. He stared at her for a very long, pregnant pause.

Diana stared back, daring him to say something.

He coughed. Then coughed again. “I, uh, I—” He made eye contact with her and looked away. Purple spread over his skull until he looked practically like a plum with eyes. “It was the only human set of clothing I have that would fit you,” he mumbled. Diana narrowed her eyes. _Why_ did he even have human clothing, and _why_ was it a maid outfit?

“So, uh,” the skeleton desperately attempted to segue away from the apparent contents of his closet. “I guess it’s time to go see Nightmare.”

~~ ~~

Nightmare was used to waiting. He was older than either he or his brother could remember. Time was nothing to him.

And yet, Cross was still taking _forever_ to bring that idiot human to him.

He lounged across his throne, one hand supporting his skull and the other thrown carelessly across his lap. His legs were thrown across the other side of the throne, one foot bobbing restlessly as he waited. Nightmare considered grabbing a book from his library while he waited, especially if Cross took any damn longer, but decided against it.

To his left, Killer leaned against one of the pillars lining the path to the throne. His clothes were still damp from the melted ice, and the tapping of his phalanges against his crossed arms was the only sign of his lingering irritation. Nightmare eyed him suspiciously; Killer hadn’t said why he had decided to wait for the human, but Nightmare suspected it was for a chance at revenge. The smile plastered on Killer’s face betrayed nothing.

Dust sat on the other side of the same pillar, staring off into the distance. He had expressed interest in finding out ‘what the crazy bitch’s deal is’, and so he, too, sat waiting for Cross to bring the human.

Axe had not deigned to join them in their wait. Once it was made clear that the human was _not_ a snack for anyone but Nightmare, Axe had immediately lost interest. Instead, he had trundled off to the kitchen to make his own snack and take a well-deserved nap.

Nightmare stared up at the high arches of the ceiling, contemplating. He had surprised himself with his own sudden magnanimity in bringing the human back with them, but the negativity that he had leeched from her soul had truly been some of the purest, highest quality emotion he had devoured in quite a long time. Even now, he still felt quite full and satiated, good mood lingering even as his irritation at being kept waiting grew.

If that negativity was a normal aspect of her soul, then Nightmare had possibly found the perfect source to supplement his normal intake of negativity from various AUs. Especially when he was forced to lie low from his annoying brother, which seemed to happen more frequently these days.

And if she found a way to make herself useful outside of feeding Nightmare, then all the better.

Two sets of footsteps echoed through the large room, finally heralding Cross’s completion of his errand. Nightmare didn’t move, but Dust and Killer both straightened and looked to the path leading to the throne in anticipation.

When the human came into view, there was a long silence that stretched out over several seconds.

What in the hell had Cross dressed the human in?

The human seemed well aware of the ridiculous nature of her outfit, a light red dusting her cheeks despite her holding her head regally high. Cross refused to make eye contact with anyone in the room.

The silence was finally broken by Dust’s cackling laughter. He paused, took another look at the human, and burst out laughing again. He was joined by Killer’s maniacal giggles. Cross’s skull took on a purple hue as their laughter echoed off the walls.

“What—what—” Dust couldn’t get the words out through his chortles. “What the _fuck_ is she wearing, Cross?” At his side, Killer slid down the pillar and fell to the ground in a pile of bones, laughing uncontrollably.

Cross crossed his arms defensively. “It’s the only outfit I had that would fit her! It’s not my fault she’s so tall!” The human shot him an incredulous look at that last statement.

“Why do you even have that?!” Killer gasped, still slumped on the ground trying to gather himself.

“It was—I found it in some random AU and—whatever, it doesn’t even matter!” Was Cross _pouting?_ Nightmare scoffed to himself. _He was._ Ridiculous. Definitely not amusing in the slightest.

“ **Are you all quite done?** ” Nightmare noticed with smug pleasure that the human jumped again at the sound of his voice. Good. She was scared of him. _As she should be._

“No.” Dust giggled for a few more seconds. “Okay. Yes.”

Killer hiccupped but was otherwise silent, his previous irritation dissipated at the human and Cross’s humiliation. Killer always did enjoy seeing other people suffer, no matter how minor.

“ **Shut up, both of you.** ” Nightmare growled unnecessarily. His focus returned to the human, whose face was bright red. “ **Human. Are you capable of talking now?** ”

The human nodded. Nightmare narrowed his eye at her and she flinched before finally speaking. “Yes.” Her voice was thin and light in comparison to his resonant baritone. Nightmare drank in her anxiety with satisfaction.

“ **Finally. Now, I think we are all eager to hear an explanation of your…unusual nature.** ” His hand gestured vaguely at nothing. Killer and Dust nodded but remained silent, not wanting to distract him by disobeying his order to shut up.

She stared at him nervously, biting her lip. No doubt she was trying to decide how much information she could give without divulging all her dark, sordid secrets. Nightmare rolled his eye. As if he cared about whatever deep shame a mere human carried. Finally, she spoke. “What…did you want to know?”

Nightmare sighed. She really was going to drag out this conversation, wasn’t she? “ **You are a mage, correct?** ”

“Yes.”

“ **And from what I can see, your soul trait is Patience.** ”

“Yes.”

“ **Earlier, your soul changed to Determination and you utilized fire magic as well as ice magic. Explain.** ”

She hesitated. Her fingers twitched at her sides and dug into her stockings nervously. “I…I have another soul attached to mine.” Dust and Killer nodded again, their theory confirmed. “The other soul is that of a **Determination** mage. If…If I lose control, the other soul takes over and…well, yesterday is what happens.”

There was a pause while Nightmare waited on her to elaborate. When she didn’t, he sighed again. “ **And why is there another soul attached to yours?** ”

Her mouth twisted. “I ate it.” A guffaw sounded from his left, but Nightmare didn’t bother looking to see which stooge had found that amusing.

Nightmare pinched the bridge of his brow in exasperation. He was starting to remember why he didn’t like dealing with humans. “ ** _Why_?**”

She grimaced, clearly having hoped he wouldn’t pursue this line of questioning. “It is the soul of someone dear to me. I was trying to keep them alive.”

“I didn’t know humans could take the souls of other humans,” Killer remarked curiously, watching her with avid interest.

Her mouth twisted again. “Neither did I,” she replied. “It was…a gamble. It did not pay off.”

“I’ll say.”

Nightmare regarded her closely, looking at her soul. It was a calm cyan, and if he looked even more closely he could see a shadow of the other soul slumbering behind it. “ **So this other soul…it is asleep right now, correct?** ”

“Yes. As long as it is asleep, I can keep it under control.”

Nightmare hummed thoughtfully. There was a faint trace of that negativity he had fed on, but to his bemusement it seemed to be originating from the parasite soul and not her own. Interesting.

He allowed his perusal of her extend to her physical form as well. Nightmare had seen many humans in many different AUs, but honestly have never paid attention to any of them long enough to mark their appearance. He doubted there was a single human who had left enough of an impression that he could recognize them from any prior encounters, so for once he made sure to make a note of her features to allow him to keep track of the human.

She was tall for a human female, tall enough to look him and Axe—the largest of the gang—square in the eye. From what he could see of her anatomy—and there was a lot to see, frankly, as that maid outfit left little to the imagination—she was on the slender side, with enough muscle tone to hint at semi-regular exercise. Most likely she was trained in some form of combat as part of her mage studies. No discernable scars or markings to serve as unique identifiers that Nightmare could see; her skin was pale and unblemished, a sign of a privileged life. Dark brown hair fell just past her shoulders, swept back nervously behind her ears. Calm, dark blue eyes—a stark contrast to the glazed, unfocused look he had first seen on her—watched him tensely, wavering in anxiety as he continued to stare at her without speaking. All in all, apart from her height there was nothing to set her apart from the myriad of humans Nightmare had encountered in his long, long life. Perhaps he should give her some sort of brand or mark so he didn’t forget…

Silence fell over the throne room as Nightmare continued to think. The human shifted restlessly as she realized he had no further questions for her, freezing when his gaze fell back on her. Finally, he laid back against the back of his throne, waving his hand at her. “ **My curiosity is sated. You are dismissed.** ”

“Um. Okay…” She looked to Cross in confusion, unsure of what to do next.

Cross cleared his throat and Nightmare glared at him. He coughed under his boss’s regard. “Uh. So what do you want me to do with her?”

“ **Find her an empty bedroom and situate her in it. Give her whatever tasks you feel like to keep her occupied, I don’t care. Just make sure she is available when I need her.** ” The human blanched at the thought of him calling on her again, but he didn’t acknowledge her. After all, he had already dismissed her. “ **Oh. Make sure we have whatever humans need to not die.** ” Cross nodded and beckoned for the human to follow him, and she gratefully took the excuse to leave Nightmare’s presence. Cross would be the best choice, he mused, to make sure the human was properly acclimated, seeing as how Cross had the most experience living with humans he wasn’t actively trying to murder. Not to mention he was sure that Cross wouldn’t suddenly develop the urge to murder her like one of the other three were likely to.

“ **Dust. Killer.** ” The both of them straightened at the sound of her names. Nightmare fixed both of them with a stern glare. “ **You are not to kill her for any reason.** ” Killer opened his mouth, but Nightmare cut him off. “ **You are not to maim her, either. Or injure her to the extent that she is incapacitated. It would likely be in your best interest for you to just avoid her, Killer, so you’re not… _tempted_.**”

“Jeez, boss,” Killer grumbled. “Since when do you treat humans better than your own crew?”

Nightmare sneered. “ **When you can provide me the same negativity and sustenance as that pathetic human, I’ll consider making you a pet as well if that’s truly what you desire.** ”

Killer’s grin widened. “Maybe I do just want to be your pet, boss. You wanna pick out a collar for me?”

“ **Shut up, idiot.** ” Nightmare said, exasperated. “ **Go do whatever it is you do when you’re not annoying me to death.** ” Killer snickered at his successful needling of his boss, but mercifully decided to leave Nightmare’s presence. Dust had long disappeared, having lost interest in the conversation.

Nightmare smiled to himself at the sweet silence. Finally. He let his form dissolve into ooze, reforming in his study. Time to plan their next outing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to BookwyrmFinallyGotAnAccount: yo, you were right on the fucking money, what the heck. Got not only the twin aspect, but even his name. I can't tell if that's a good sign, or a sign that I'm a lazy writer. Anyway, kudos to you! Wish I had some kind of actual prize to offer.
> 
> I tried to keep the flashback short; I absolutely loathe flashbacks in most fanfiction, so I decided to go ahead and just shove all the backstory in one chapter to just get it over with.
> 
> I had a giggle when writing some of the dialogue and decided to gift y'all with another doodle that was a result of my giggle. I do not claim to be an artist, but I did my best to capture the true essence of the Boys (TM). https://imgur.com/a/ttUfYmF
> 
> As always, let me know if you have any suggestions, comments, or ideas! If you have a question you'd like me to answer in the next chapter notes, drop it in the comments!


	3. The Author Does Not Condone Stealing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare gets an eyeful. Some exposition. Diana finally gets new clothes. More exposition. Quality time with Killer and Cross. Just a little more exposition. Killer continues his mission to be as annoying as possible. Diana comes to the unsettling realization that skeletons possibly get horny for humans, and Killer has horrible taste in fashion. Even more exposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, one last chapter before grad school returns from break to start kicking my ass again. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe more if there's another easy week before the end of the semester.

Diana sat on the bed in her newly assigned bedroom, trying to make sense of what her life apparently had become in the last hour.

The black and white skeleton—who had finally introduced himself as Cross—had taken her to an empty bedroom, bare of any furnishings other than a bed and a wooden desk. The bed didn’t even have any sheets or pillows. Cross had disappeared after telling her he was going to procure her “necessities”. Diana hoped that her “necessities” included new clothes.

And now she was left alone with her thoughts, whirling around her head. Throughout everything, she could still feel the cold gaze of Nightmare piercing her. She shuddered.

Was this a common occurrence for the skeletons? Did they frequently kidnap humans for secret, nefarious purposes? Diana frowned. Well, probably not, now that she thought about it. If they did, she would assume they would be better prepared with necessities and _proper clothing_. So why was she here?

Something about the ‘dual nature’ of her soul had clearly caught Nightmare’s attention. Did he plan on trying to use her as a weapon? She laughed bitterly to herself. He wouldn’t be the first to try. Her family and the military had quickly learned that there was no controlling Apollo. If he was awake, all he wanted was to destroy everything around him, and it didn’t matter if it was friend or foe.

Maybe he wanted to conduct experiments on her. Again, she thought bitterly, he wouldn’t be the first. Her hands dug into the fabric of her stockings as she blocked out the memories of sharp instruments piercing both flesh and soul.

Diana buried her face in her hands and shook herself roughly, dispelling the mad cluttering of thoughts. There was no use in worrying about it until she knew what Nightmare actually wanted from her.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Cross returned with a large bundle in his arms. Most of the bundle turned out to be sheets for her bed, along with pillows (and corresponding pillowcases). He also brought her basic toiletries including a toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, a bar of soap, shampoo, and…she was impressed that he had even thought to get conditioner. Cross noticed her raised eyebrows at his thoroughness and looked away. “I used to take care of a human in my original universe,” he mumbled, both answering and creating questions for Diana. Original universe?

Unfortunately, he had not brought her clothes. Diana bit the bullet and broached the topic. “So, um. Is there any way I can get more clothes as well?”

He choked, his skull turning purple yet again. “Uh! Yes—of course.” He paused, thinking. “I wonder if Nightmare would let me take you out to look at clothes. I mean, it would be easier than…” He trailed off, looking at the empty closet thoughtfully.

Diana didn’t push the subject further. She didn’t feel like bringing up the fact that she was currently not wearing any underwear, and her skirt, having clearly been designed for a shorter woman, was dangerously short enough to make her nervous about bending over. When she had dressed for her errands yesterday, she had foregone underwear with her leggings—a decision she was sincerely regretting.

Cross stayed in the room as she organized the toiletries in her bathroom, looking around and likely thinking of additional things she might need in her room.

“So…” Diana drew Cross’s attention back to her. She figured, if she wanted answers, Cross was her best bet. So far he had actually been civil with her and even helpful—even if it was due to being ordered around by Nightmare to do so. “Why…um, why am I here?”

“Honestly?” Cross shrugged. “I’m really not sure what Nightmare wants with you. But he said I could have you help me keep the castle clean, so don’t worry, I’ll keep you busy.”

So much for answers. Wait. She looked at him. “Is that why you have a maid outfit?”

He flushed again, and stomped his foot. “Why does everyone keep asking? It doesn’t matter! Drop it!”

 _Lord, please don’t let this be his secret kink_.

Diana decided to be merciful and change the subject. “So, do you have to go run more errands for Nightmare?”

“Well, I need to make sure I’ve got everything you need.” Cross took another look around the room. “Is there anything else you can think of?”

“Other than clothes?” Diana considered the question. “Ah, toilet paper I guess. Deodorant would be nice. A hairbrush. Oh, a razor and shaving cream would be nice. And lotion. Probably will need food in a little bit.” Her brow furrowed in thought. She had never really thought about what all humans needed for survival or basic comfort in comparison to monsters, let alone skeleton monsters.

Cross looked put out by the growing list. No doubt he thought he had gotten everything. Diana wondered wryly if she was more high maintenance than whatever humans he had taken care of.

“Ugh. Maybe it would just be easier to take you to the store.” Cross tapped his foot against the floor thoughtfully. Diana wondered what ‘store’ catered to the needs of murderous skeletons and their captives. “Yeah, that’s probably easiest. Let’s go make sure Nightmare is okay with me taking you into another AU.”

Another AU? What did—wait, they were going back to Nightmare already? “Do we—do we have to?”

Cross shrugged again. “I’m just going to check with him real quick and then we’ll go. Nightmare requires that we talk to him before leaving the castle anyway. It’ll take like, five minutes.”

“I can just wait here while you talk to him,” Diana offered. Cross misinterpreted her apprehension.

“Oh, it’s no trouble. It’ll save us time if we just leave straight from Nightmare’s office anyway.”

Diana couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she just simply didn’t want to be anywhere near her new ‘boss’. Cross clearly wasn’t budging on the matter, so with a long sigh, Diana forced herself to follow him out of the room.

~~ ~~

Just how big was this castle? Diana swore they had been walking ten minutes already. She wasn’t sure how Cross knew where to go, as all the hallways looked exactly the same and the doors weren’t marked.

Finally they stopped in front of yet another nondescript door. Cross raised his hand and rapped twice on the solid oak.

“ **What.** ”

Cross moved to open the door. Diana rocked back on her heels. “Ah, I’ll just wait out here for you.”

“He’s not going to bite your head off. Uh, probably. Just don’t annoy him.”

“ **If you’re going to bother me, get on with it,** ” Nightmare’s voice resonated through the door, sounding decidedly annoyed. Diana whipped her head back to Cross, giving him an accusing look. Cross didn’t seem phased.

“Come on,” Cross opened the door and pulled her into the study before she could protest.

Well. This was happening.

The study was large and spacious, bookshelves lining the walls. At the end of the room was a massive, wooden desk at which Nightmare was seated, papers scattered before him. To one side of the room, there was a large, plush armchair with a small side table in front of yet another bookshelf. Their footsteps were muffled by the thick, plush rug that was laid out before the desk, the fabric of the rug bunching slightly under their feet.

A single, malevolent eyelight snapped up to glare at the both of them. “ **It’s been barely an hour since you got back, Cross, what could you possibly need?** ”

Cross scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I forgot some stuff. I was wondering if I could take the human with me this time.”

“ **To be clear, do you know what will happen if she tries to escape?** ”

“Uh…” Cross glanced at her. “I’ll stop her?”

“ **And what do you think will happen to _you_ if she does escape?**”

“…unspeakable horrors?”

“ **As long as you are aware of the consequences. Go grab one of the others if you’re set on this.** ”

“Okay, jeez. Give me a sec.” Cross jogged out of the study, leaving Diana to stand awkwardly in the middle of the study.

Thankfully, Nightmare seemed to have lost interest in her as soon as Cross scurried out the door, and his attention returned to the papers before him.

As it had been in the throne room, the atmosphere was almost tangibly heavy, and Diana could feel some unseen weight pressing down on her. Come to think of it, she had also felt it in the dungeon as Nightmare had stared down at her. There was something about the soul of the twisted skeleton that exerted a pressure on her own.

Diana forced herself to relax, encouraging the naturally soothing pulses of magic from her own soul to push calm through her tense nerves and muscles. The pressure eased, just a bit, and Diana breathed a little easier. As she was steadfastly refusing to let her gaze wander over to the figure at the desk, she didn’t notice the cyan eye that watched the actions of her soul with curiosity.

A book on the shelf to her right caught her eye, and Diana turned to get a better look when the bunched up rug caught at her heel—damn these ridiculous shoes—and she stumbled. Fortunately, she was easily able to catch herself on the bookshelf, but she felt the edge of her skirt fly up behind her before she was able to straighten herself. _She wasn’t wearing underwear._

A strangled sound came from behind her and she whirled to face Nightmare, cheeks blazing, only to find him still perusing his paperwork and looking for all the world like he hadn’t even twitched a bone since she had entered the room. _Had he seen?!_ Nothing seemed out of the ordinary…though if Diana didn’t know better, she would swear his tentacles seemed to be stirring the air with more energy than usual.

At her continued stare, he finally lifted his eye to meet her own. His gaze was flat and unamused. “ **Something I can help you with, _human_?**” he sneered.

Diana wanted to muster up the courage to ask him what his plans for her were, but her soul quailed at the relentless waves of intimidation pouring from him. “N-No.”

He continued to stare her down until she looked away, at which he gave a smug “ **hmph** ” and returned to his work. He seemed to take great pleasure in her fear and anxiety, Diana noticed sourly. She didn’t, however, notice the uptick in his smile as the feeling of her annoyance infused him.

Carefully this time, she turned and looked at the bookshelf she was standing at. Some of the books she recognized from her studies as general theories and textbooks on souls and magic, but there was a large range of subjects that left her more baffled than anything. This shelf seemed to house mostly soul and magic theory books, but the next shelf had advanced quantum physics and even astrophysics by authors with longer chains of credentials than actual names—and there, on the next shelf, she saw medical textbooks for both human and monster anatomy and biology. Diana wondered, for a brief moment, if there was a textbook on skeleton monsters—she had never seen any before yesterday, even with her and her brother’s travels throughout the country and speeches to crowds of humans and monsters alike. Were they rare and had just been hiding away until they decided to rampage through Ebbott City?

There were so many questions she had yet to ask. She knew nothing about her captors—other than they seemed to take great amusement in each others’ misfortunes—and still needed to find out who they really were, _where_ they were, and why they had even appeared in her city.

Hopefully she could stay in Cross’s good graces and she could interrogate him at some point in the near future.

As if summoned by her thought, the door to the study opened again and a thoroughly disgruntled-looking Cross returned with, to Diana’s surprise and dismay, Killer behind him grinning ear to ear. Killer caught sight of Diana, still in her ridiculous outfit, and his grin somehow widened even further.

Nightmare seemed to share her surprise. “ **I figured you would have taken Axe with you. He never turns down a grocery trip.** ”

“Axe is feeling a bit… _burnt out_ ,” Killer said cheerily, sending a conspiratorial wink in Diana’s direction. Diana felt like she was missing a reference. “So I happily volunteered my time for my good pal Criss-Cross.”

Cross scowled. “He wouldn’t leave me alone until I said he could come.”

“ **Just as well. Axe probably would have found a way to get off track in the grocery store as he tends to do, and we don't need a repeat of the last incident. Killer, at least, will keep the two of you from _wandering off_.**” Nightmare gave Cross a pointed look. Diana felt like she was missing another reference. Cross flushed and looked at his feet, so there seemed to be some story there. “ **And Killer likely would be able to pick out less…garish clothes for the human.** ” Both Diana and Cross flushed at that remark. Killer was smiling like it was Gyftmas morning.

“You saying I have creative control over the human’s outfits?” he asked, a bit too eagerly for Diana’s comfort. She also wasn’t crazy about constantly being referred to as a third party, as if she wasn’t in the same room as the conversation—but then again, she wasn’t particularly jumping at the bit for the skeletons to actually include her in their conversations, so she kept quiet.

“ **It can’t be worse than whatever fetish Cross is trying to act out.** ” A delighted guffaw from Killer and flustered spluttering from Cross answered Nightmare’s snarky comment.

“It’s not—ugh, can we just _go_ already?!” Cross huffed, his arm raising to reveal a glitching purple knife in his hand. With an indignant swipe at the air, there was a tearing sound and Diana’s eyebrows rose as a portal opened in the middle of the study.

Portals and ‘space-time travel’ were mere theoreticals in her studies as a mage; they were possible, but generally took enormous amounts of calculations, preparations, and knowledge of both magic and physics to have any true practical application. Only a few mages throughout history had confirmed ability to even look upon other worlds and dimensions, let alone open a human-sized portal and walk right through it.

Killer didn’t share the same scholastic wonder as Diana at the sight of portal, and nonchalantly strode through it—Diana watched in amazement as his body disappeared right in thin air.

“ **Ah. Cross.** ” Nightmare said suddenly, drawing Cross’s attention. A dripping phalange beckoned Cross closer to the desk, and he leaned forward to speak quietly to the curious skeleton. Still, Diana was close enough to make out Nightmare’s rumbling baritone. “ **Do make sure the human also acquires undergarments on this trip. I don’t want to give the others any more… _provocation_ than necessary.**”

 _Oh my God. He had seen._ Wait. Provocation? What would she be prov—oh _Lord._ Diana did not want to continue that train of thought.

Cross was an interesting shade of violet as he realized why Nightmare of all monsters would be making that request. His eyelights darted to Diana, whose face was now buried in her hands to hide the blush threatening to consume her. He cleared his throat several times before he was able to speak, knowing that Nightmare could feel every bit of both his and Diana’s mortification. Judging from the way his tentacles were undulating behind him, it was providing him both amusement and a few crumbs of nourishment. “S-sure thing, boss,” he finally managed to choke out, stepping away from the desk. Nightmare watched him retreat, grinning at his discomfort.

“Come on, human,” Cross said, gesturing to the portal.

Hesitantly, Diana stepped up to the tear in the fabric of their world. She couldn’t make out what was on the other side—all she could see was the black darkness of the void theorized to exist as a placeholder between dimensions—and she swallowed nervously. Was this really just for a simple shopping trip?

“ **If you don’t hurry up, Cross is just going to push you through. And I don’t think you want to fall on your ass in _that outfit_** ,” Nightmare said, giving her a pointed look. Diana blanched at the thought of sprawled out on the ground, everything on show for Killer on the other side.

Before she could work herself up with more anxiety, Diana took a deep breath and stepped through the portal.

~~ ~~

Diana didn’t know what she had expected passing through a portal would feel like, but it far more of a jarring experience than she anticipated. There was no transition time or even any pause in the void between dimensions—she literally took a step forward and suddenly found herself in the middle of an dark, empty shopping mall instead of Nightmare’s castle. From a quick survey of her surroundings, she was in the food court by a Sbarro’s.

She could see outside through the glass doors at the entrance to the mall that it was nighttime. The mall was evidently closed, which would explain the lack of lights and people.

There was a footstep behind her, and Diana turned to see the portal closing behind Cross as he joined her. He looked around and scowled. “Where’s Killer?”

“Taking care of the security systems.” Killer popped out of the shadows, smirking and twirling a knife. He seemed disappointed when Diana didn’t jump in fright at his sudden appearance. Taking it in stride, he continued. “Cut the power to the motion sensors and alarms, so that shouldn’t be a problem like last time.”

Last time?

“Why did we come here when no one is here?” Diana asked.

Killer laughed out loud at that. “What, you _want_ people to see you in that getup?” He gave her a very suggestive look that immediately put her on edge. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, freak.”

That train of thought that Diana had been quick to abandon in Nightmare’s study was roaring back down the tracks. Did skeletons fuck? How did skeletons fuck? And riding in the caboose at the end of the train, _they didn’t fuck humans, did they?_ Killer was still giving her what she _hoped_ wasn’t his best attempt at bedroom eyes, his smile slowly spreading at her obvious discomfort.

Cross thankfully derailed her disaster train by speaking. “It’s easier to get all the stuff we need when we don’t have to worry about people trying to chase us down for stealing,” he said casually, eyeing a game store.

“We’re stealing?”

“Well, yeah,” Cross said, startled. As if the idea of them buying what they needed was something that had never occurred to him. “Nightmare doesn’t exactly have a need for money.”

Could have fooled her, with that ridiculously large castle.

“Come on,” Cross called to her, walking off into the heart of the mall. “We should get a move on before whoever’s monitoring the security system notices anything’s wrong.”

~~ ~~

Diana couldn’t help but find herself wondering why the skeletons had chosen such a… _desolate_ mall. Every other space was lacking an occupying business. Even the kiosks in the middle of the paths were derelict.

And the entire mall was carpeted. Diana had never been in a mall that had carpet. She couldn’t put words as to why it was unsettling, but just something about a mall with wall-to-wall carpeting was just wrong.

First stop was the ubiquitous large department store, the one that seemed to grace every shopping mall and was somehow still surviving even with the advent of online shopping. Diana slipped under the gate that Cross lifted up and made a beeline for the lingerie section.

To her dismay, Killer was hot on her heels. He started sniggering when he realized where they were heading. “You trying to impress someone?”

Instead of rising to the bait, Diana decided to change tactics. Someone like Killer, she theorized, just said whatever popped into their head until they got the appropriate reaction. He was like the class clown in elementary school, just constantly needling people until they snapped and gave him the reaction he wanted. She turned and looked Killer straight in the eyes—well, straight in his sockets, she supposed—and gave him a smug look of her own. “Why, you have any suggestions?”

Killer’s sockets widened, and to her disgust a gush of black liquid spewed over his cheekbones. His grin turned sharp. “Oh, I’ve got _suggestions_ ,” he leered. “You stay right there. I did tell Nightmare I’d help dress you, after all. You can leave this to me.” He turned and disappeared into the dark recesses of the lingerie section, sinister chuckles floating through the darkness.

Cross raised a brow as he rejoined her. “Did you try to egg him on or something? I’ve tried that tactic. Nothing fazes him. It just encourages him.”

“Clearly,” Diana said sourly. She thought she saw a smile flit over Cross’s face, but when she snapped her glare at him, his countenance was the picture of innocence. Maybe Cross was more similar to the other skeletons and their obsession with making other people miserable than she thought.

“Well, he’s probably going to keep himself entertained for a bit,” Cross remarked, watching a stack of carefully folded thongs fall to the ground as Killer carelessly knocked into the display behind him. “We can go look at normal clothes while the idiot looks at panties.”

A low snicker echoed in the store before a scrap of fabric suddenly shot out from the darkness and plastered itself against Cross’s skull. “Try not to _milk_ the opportunity, Criss-Cross,” Killer giggled. Cross scrabbled at his skull until he was able to peel off the fabric and get a look at it before dropping it with a disgusted curse.

Diana looked at the pair of underwear lying forlorn on the ground. They had a black and white polka dot pattern—looking closer, it was the pattern of a cowhide. Cross eyed the panties again uneasily before walking off abruptly. “Come on, human,” he said stiffly. Diana shrugged and followed him over the women’s clothing section, feeling like she was missing yet another reference.

~~ ~~

Killer found them still in the women’s clothing section, a growing pile of the simplest clothing Diana could find at her side. She was sticking to clothes that were easy to move around and sweat in—and were, hopefully, not provocative in any way to any horny skeletons. If skeletons did, in fact, get horny. Cross had made a few suggestions before they both realized that he knew nothing about female human vanity sizing, and so was wandering around aimlessly looking at shoes.

The knife-happy skeleton bounded up to them, his arms full of various scraps of cloth, almost vibrating with energy. Diana was immediately on edge. She definitely saw at least a few thongs in his arms, and Diana was _not_ a thong kind of woman.

“Here you are, human,” Killer said cheerily—too cheerily. Diana eyed him suspiciously. Killer only brightened his smile at her regard and made to dump his findings into her own arms. “The fitting room is right behind you.”

Cross was watching with interest, his own eyelights lingering on the jumbled mess of undergarments.

“I even developed a color coding system for you,” Killer continued helpfully. This was not heading in a direction Diana liked. “Black is for Nightmare, blue is for Axe, and red is for Dust. Oh, and everything in leopard print is for me. Really gets me going.” Diana shuddered at the thought of not only Killer’s sexual preferences, but at wearing leopard print.

“What about me?” Cross looked almost offended at being left out.

“Criss-Cross, don’t be selfish. The human’s already wearing what you picked out for her—after all, she really _laid herself bare_ with your outfit.” Killer answered.

Diana stared at him with wide eyes. Killer noticed the change in expression and laughed out loud. “You really think I didn’t notice? That skirt bounces up whenever you walk, and I walked behind you the whole length of the mall. Cross really gave you the _short end_ of the stick with that outfit.”

“Oh my God,” Diana groaned, not even able to care that she was just fueling Killer’s unending amusement with her reaction. “I’m going to go change now.”

Killer moved to follow her into the fitting room and Diana almost exploded on him. “You are _not_ going into the stall with me.”

Unphased, Killer gave her a threatening grin. “Can’t let you go anywhere unattended, now can I? Boss hired me to be the babysitter on this little mission.” A knife, procured from some hidden pocket, twirled between his phalanges as if to drive home his point.

“There’s only one entrance into the fitting room,” Diana was quick to point out. “There’s no way for me to sneak out.”

He shrugged. “You could climb through a vent. Or make a hole in the wall and slip out.” His expression darkened almost imperceptibly. “Humans are tricky little things.”

“Fine, then you can wait out here and Cross can watch me.” Diana retorted. A flush of lavender spread across Cross’s skull as her words sunk in.

“Gotta make sure Cross doesn’t try to take advantage of you,” Killer shot back, leering at Cross. Cross’s blush continued to darken. “Wouldn’t want Criss-Cross’s first time to be in an abandoned JCPenney.”

Diana resisted the urge to tap her foot in irritation, trying to minimize her reactions to Killer’s teasing. She schooled her face into a neutral expression and almost by instinct used a small, subtle pulse of her soul to calm her emotions. “Fine,” she finally said, her voice cool. “But both you and Cross have to turn away and not watch.”

Killer deflated slightly at her refusal to play his game any longer, but took it as a win. The knife disappeared back into the depths of his jacket, and he followed Diana into the fitting room with a smug expression.

Not bothering to close the door to the fitting room stall—after all, they were the only people in the entire building—Diana immediately pushed the two skeletons into the corner and turned them to face the wall, ignoring their protests at the rough handling. After a moment, Diana had a flash of inspiration and threw a pair of jeans over Killer’s skull, the legs flopping down and obstructing his view. In the interest of fairness, despite Cross’s indignant squawk, a pair of leggings soon adorned Cross’s skull as well.

With lightning speed, Diana was soon out of the accursed maid outfit and into a much more sensible ensemble of a tank top and capri leggings— _with underwear_ of course. The dress shoes were replaced by a pair of sneakers that Cross had picked out during his wanders, the only fashion choice Diana allowed him to make. Taking into account the chill that awaited her back at Nightmare’s castle, she also threw on a light activewear jacket. All in all, she looked like a soccer mom running errands on a crisp fall afternoon; all she needed to complete the look was a pumpkin spice latte.

Finally able to bend over and squat without fear of exposure, Diana sorted through the rather impressive pile of underwear that Killer had accumulated. Of course, any fabric with even a hint of leopard print was thrown in the “fuck no” pile. Thongs were also tossed into the pile. Apart from that, Killer had made _mostly_ reasonable choices—though he seemed to gravitate towards the skimpier cuts of panties. She tried to pick out the most conservatively cut pieces, more so for comfort honestly than any sense of modesty.

Diana’s eyes narrowed when she got to the few bras that he had also picked out. How in the hell did that little fucker know her cup size? Not wanting to consider the options, she shoved them into the ‘keep’ pile and finally straightened back to her full height.

“I think I’m good on clothes,” she said to the surprisingly quiet pair of skeletons in the corner.

Killer yawned. “Finally. What else are we getting?”

“Everything else I think I can get at the grocery store.” Diana gathered everything she had picked out into a giant pile.

Cross turned around and opened a portal—this one just tall enough for him to fit through. “Let me drop these off in your room real quick and we’ll go.” Kneeling down, he scooped everything up into his arms and disappeared through the portal, leaving Killer and Diana to stand awkwardly in the cramped stall.

“You know,” Killer said suddenly, his tone relatively serious in comparison to its normal mocking slant. “You’re taking all of this awfully well for a human.”

Diana looked at him curiously.

Killer grinned at her. “I mean, most other humans would have been probably a crying mess after their first encounter with Nightmare. His negativity tends to bring out that side of people. But you were actually able to answer him in full sentences and didn’t even vomit once.” Diana wasn’t sure if that really sounded like an achievement, but chose to take Killer’s words as a sort of compliment. “We kidnap you and in the same day you go clothes shopping with us. That doesn’t strike you as weird?”

“Well…” Diana thought about it. “I’m just going with the flow, I guess. No use crying about things I can’t change.” She shrugged. What else was she to do?

She had never been one prone to emotional reactions. That had always been Apollo’s forte. Diana had always preferred to hover behind him and make friends vicariously through him—most people tended to avoid the pale girl who didn’t respond with the same energy they had come to expect from her brother. As she grew older, her emotions continued to flatten, and after Apollo’s ‘attachment’ to her, Diana had quickly learned that his wakefulness was tied in part to her emotions. Strong emotions roused him, and so Diana had eventually suppressed her emotions to the point of an almost flatline.

It honestly didn’t bother her too much, if she were to be honest about it. It made life easier most of the time.

Come to think of it, she was surprised that she still couldn’t feel even the slightest stirring from Apollo’s soul, even with all the strong emotions she had felt in the past few hours.

Killer watched her with open curiosity as her thoughts wandered. The corner of his mouth lifted in an annoyed twitch when he realized that she was now oblivious to his presence as she became lost in thought. Killer didn’t like being ignored, whether it was intentional or not.

Before he could open his mouth to try to start nettling her again, Cross returned with empty arms. “Alright, let’s go to the grocery store.”

~~ ~~

“MTT-Mart-Supercenter-Mania?” Diana questioned, looking up at the garish neon sign blazing above the entrance of the grocery store. The sign was almost bright enough to light up the entire parking lot, bathing the three of them in an unearthly fuchsia glow as they stood in the empty lot. It was a 24 hour store, so it was actually open, but it was apparently one in the morning and so no one was there.

Killer grabbed a shopping cart and brought it over to the group. “Mettaton in this universe decided to branch out his franchise into retail. This was his answer to the large grocery chains and certain corporations for monsters.” He looked like he was trying to roll his nonexistent eyelights at Cross, while the smaller skeleton fastidiously wiped down the cart with the provided antibacterial wipes.

“You keep saying things about different universes and AUs,” Diana decided to finally address the question that had been burning for a while as they walked into the store. “What does that mean? Are we in a different dimension?”

Cross and Killer shared a look, seeming to silently argue about who would have to explain everything. Cross lost, naturally and sighed. “It’s a bit complicated. Do you know anything about multiverses?”

“Oh, like alternate—” Diana made a realization. “OH! Alternate universes, that’s what you mean by AUs.”

“Yeah. There are an infinite number of alternate universes that we can travel to, each of them with their own unique characteristics. Some universes are really similar to each other, and some are vastly different.” Diana guided the cart into the health and beauty section, listening intently to Cross. “To make things really simple, most universes share a few common aspects and people, but that’s not a guarantee. Each of us comes from a different universe.”

Diana threw a hairbrush and some hair ties into the cart. Killer picked up the packet of hair ties and looked them over curiously, no doubt trying to figure out what their purpose was. “So…we’re not in my original universe, are we?”

“No, we’re in a different universe. It’s very rare we return to a specific universe since there are literally millions of different ones.” They were moving at a steady pace through each aisle as Diana would quickly look over the items and snag anything she thought she would need. The cart steadily filled up with Diana’s normal health and skincare regimens.

“And you’re not from my universe.”

“No.” Cross seemed to be relieved at how relatively easy Diana was taking all this information; maybe Killer had a good point about her lack of reactions earlier. Should she be freaking out at the thought of there being a thousand versions of her living a thousand different lives?

A bottle of unscented lotion wrapped up Diana’s foray into this section of the store. She headed for the grocery section, the boys following her faithfully. Killer insisted on looking over each item in the cart, fascinated with the myriad of necessities that human females apparently required to function.

“So…why _were_ you in my universe? You guys seemed kinda hellbent on killing everyone on the street when I saw you.”

Killer glanced over at her, brow raised. “You actually remember that? I assumed you were so chill because you didn’t remember anything from yesterday.”

Diana answered him absently, occupied by the colorful array of cereal choices before her. “I remember everything up until we started fighting, honestly. After Apollo took over I just blacked out for a bit.”

“Who’s Apollo?”

She froze. Both skeletons were looking at her expectantly, Killer looking pleased at having made her obviously tense. He really seemed to enjoy riling up everyone he came into contact with, no matter how insignificant the reaction. Forcing herself to answer casually, she simply told them “the other soul,” before grabbing a box of Mettaton-Bits (“they make you a bit like me, darling”) and tossing it in the cart. “So yeah, why were you in my universe?” she asked, very unsubtly changing the subject.

Cross gave her a lingering glance before looking at Killer. “Well, Killer could probably answer that better. I was with Nightmare for the most part.”

“Oh, we were just there to have fun.”

“You were just killing a bunch of people…?”

“Yeah, we were having fun.” Killer had a dreamy look on his face, then pouted. “Well, we were until you ruined it.”

Cross smirked. “Dust seemed to be having fun, from what I could see.”

Killer’s smile turned just a tad sharp before he was distracted by Diana throwing yet more food into the cart. “Just how much food do you need, human?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know how often we’re going to make these trips, so I figured I’d make the most of it.” There was an extraordinary amount of various food in the buggy at this point, including snacks, eggs, cereal, pasta and rice, packaged meats, and many others. Diana probably should have checked how big a pantry there was before the trip, but she assumed with a castle that big, Nightmare likely had more than one pantry.

His empty sockets regarded her suspiciously. “Do you really need all of this stuff to survive?”

Diana shrugged again. “More or less.”

“Well,” Cross cut in. “We should probably leave before the employees notice us. I think Axe got kicked out last time he was in here and I’m not sure if he went without a fight.”

As if on cue, a voice came over the overhead intercom calling for security in their current aisle, and Diana caught a glimpse of a panicked looking cat monster vanishing from the aisle. Clearly, Axe had made an impression.

Cross was already tearing a hole in the fabric of space and time when two security guards skidded around the corner of the aisle, slipping on the slick vinyl flooring. One was a human, and the other a giant, muscular…horse…merman? All Diana was able to see were many flexing muscles before Cross was pushing her and the cart through the portal.

Nightmare looked up at their sudden return. His eyelight roved her body, taking in her change in outfit before focusing on the sheer amount of stuff in the stolen cart. “ **That seems…an excessive amount of nutrition for one human,** ” He said, his tone almost accusatory.

Diana forced herself to remain calm under his regard. “I made sure to get enough to last for a while in case I don’t go on another trip.” She hated how small her voice sounded whenever she was in his presence.

“ **Hmm.** ” Nightmare’s gaze lingered on her for a moment that seemed to last forever, then returned to the book in his lap. He was sitting in the large, plush chair by one of his bookshelves, skull resting on one hand as he read and slippered feet crossed at the ankle. “ **Hurry and put everything up before Axe gets a whiff of it, then. Killer, stay a moment.** ”

Effectively dismissed, Diana gladly followed Cross out of the study and down yet another hallway. Another five minutes of walking, during which the silence was broken only by the incessant squeaking of a loose wheel on the cart, and they were suddenly entering a large kitchen.

It was quite spacious, with more counterspace that Diana had ever seen, even in her family estate. There was a gigantic, stainless steel refrigerator—indicating that somehow electricity ran through the castle—and a chest freezer next to it that was almost as big as the refrigerator. Clearly the skeletons were used to having a lot of food in the castle, she mused.

Cross opened a set of double doors situated by the cabinets, and Diana found herself gaping at the largest pantry she had ever seen. Whereas she was expecting maybe the equivalent of a decent walk-in closet, it was literally the size of her bedroom, the shelves lining the walls filled to the brim with various snacks and food items.

“Go ahead and put everything up,” Cross told her. “You mind if I put the other stuff in your room?” Diana shook her head. “Cool. I’ve got other stuff to do, so you’re free to do whatever. I’ll show you all the cleaning stuff tomorrow.”

He was really just going to let her have free reign? Cross noticed the look on her face and smirked. “Like I told you earlier, don’t bother trying to escape. Even if you get out of the castle, there’s nothing else in this universe and nowhere to go. And if Nightmare catches you outside the castle, he’ll probably decide to just kill you.”

Deflated, Diana nodded in understanding. So much for that. She would just have to bide her time and gauge her situation until she could figure something out.

Satisfied that she wouldn’t try anything stupid in his absence, Cross swept up the non-food items from the bottom of the cart and disappeared.

Diana sighed, finally left alone. This was her life for now, she supposed. Her stomach rumbled.

Might as well make something to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never fear, the french maid outfit will return at some point, if only so I can make this (https://imgur.com/a/KENv47b) a reality in a future chapter. The mall is very loosely based on a mall from my undergrad years--there is just something about carpet in a mall that is just deeply unsettling.
> 
> Y'all like all that exposition? Getting all that out of the way so we can get into the meat and potatoes of the story--Skeleton Shenanigans (TM) and Diana wiggling her way into Nightmare's good graces. Yeehaw.
> 
> Coming up next: Diana makes a new friend, and starts adjusting to her new life. The Skeleton Shenanigans (TM) begin. Maybe some sexual tension if I don't distract myself~
> 
> As always, I welcome any comments, suggestions, and notes!


	4. Breakfast is the Most Important Meal of the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana finds the way to Axe's heart. Killer gets salty and plans some Salty Shenanigans (TM). Uh, that's about it, this is like 11 pages of nothing. Woops lol.
> 
> We spent a lot of time with Cross and Killer last chapter, so now it's Axe's turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised I'd answer at least one question a chapter from the comments, and here I am fulfilling my promise. Moonpuzzle asked about what the deal is with Killer's tears, and the honest answer is: I dunno, I'm honestly not too familiar with the canon for Killer. My head canon is that they tend to increase in volume in response to heightened emotions (which seems to be a common theme in this fic hmmMMMmmMMMM), and don't last long outside of his body/general vicinity. So they stain his jacket because it's so close to his soul, but other than that they just kinda dissipate on contact with the ground or anything else. (I also forget about them a lot)
> 
> I also had this scenario pop up in my head when writing my answer and decided to draw an example of how the tears work if Killer had an emotional response to, say, praise from his beloved boss. Kachow: https://imgur.com/a/Ao37YhS

It took a hot minute for Diana to put everything away; she had to move many of the food items already in the pantry to make room for her own, and she wanted to make sure to keep everything relatively organized. Last thing she wanted was for one of the skeletons to start freaking out on her because they couldn’t find their Rice Krispies or something.

Rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen, she managed to find a permanent marker which she used to mark all her food separately. Humans could eat monster food with no adverse effects, but monster food just didn’t have the physical nutrition that human bodies needed to survive on a long term basis—even though it was, for the most part, physically indistinguishable to the naked eye from human food.

By the time she was done, her stomach was loudly reminding her that she had not eaten anything since that sandwich from Cross when she first woke up. Funny how that already felt like ages ago when it had merely been a few hours. Diana decided to make something quick and easy so she could start planning on figuring out how to find her room. A grilled cheese sandwich sounded like it would hit the spot.

She was slapping butter onto two slices of whole wheat bread—might as well pretend to try to be a little healthy—when suddenly Diana caught a whiff of what smelled like something was burning. There was no way that it was the pan she had just put over medium heat. Her head turned to see if it was something else in the kitchen that had somehow caught fire, when she found herself face to face with Axe, who was standing directly behind her despite having not made any sound of approach. Diana jerked in surprise, but otherwise was able to restrain herself from reacting to his sudden invasion of her personal space.

It became painfully obvious that Axe was the source of the smell; his face was smudged with what looked like soot, and his clothes were singed all over his body. He didn’t seem to notice his apparent state of crispiness, the single red eyelight bloated in his left socket as it stared down at her. Chipped, sharp teeth pulled back into a grin, but it almost felt like a neutral expression without any actual emotion behind it. Diana was slightly put out to realize that, now that the two of them were right in front of each other, Axe was in fact just an inch or two taller than her.

Thankfully, his trusty cleaver was nowhere to be found, putting her slightly at ease. Maybe Axe didn’t feel the need to carry it everywhere when he was home. His phalanges did seem to curl instinctively at his side, as if he were accustomed to the constant weight in that hand.

Several long seconds passed, neither of them saying a word. He continued to stare relentlessly down at her with that unchanging grin, and didn’t seem inclined to start a conversation. Was he trying to make his own meal and she was in his way? Or was he trying to elicit a reaction like Killer was so fond of doing?

Another smell reached her, and Diana realized that if she stood there any longer than her butter in the pan really was going to burn. Cursing, she turned and slapped the bread down in the pan. Axe’s eye bore into the back of her head, but still he made no move to go around her or attack her, so Diana decided to let him be. On a whim, she added a slice of ham to the sandwich before putting the slices together and letting them cook just a bit longer.

She looked up and noticed that his eyelight was now fixated on the sandwich as it bubbled and cooked. Diana didn’t even notice she was asking him a question until it forced itself out of her throat. “You want one?”

His eyelight snapped over to her face and shrank into a pinprick. The expression on his face was inscrutable. “…what?”

Confused, Diana gestured to the grilled cheese. “You hungry? You want a sandwich?”

There was another, even longer pause. He looked over her face thoroughly, seeming to look for a sign of…Diana wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Deceit? Teasing? Finally, he gave her a slow nod.

“Um, alright, I can make you one. It’s going to be made of human food,” she warned. Axe nodded again, more quickly this time, taking a seat at the island in the middle of the kitchen. His frame made the rickety-looking stool creak threateningly, but he looked oddly at home sitting at the counter and watching her expectantly. Diana slid the finished grilled cheese out of the pan and onto the plate she had found in the cabinets, then placed the plate in front of Axe. “Here, you can go ahead and have this one since it’s already done.” _And the sooner you eat it, the sooner you can leave before you decide to attack me again._

Axe remained quiet, looking down at the steaming sandwich contemplatively. His eyelight was still small in his socket, a red pinprick that wavered slightly as it took in the sight of the sandwich.

Diana was already preparing another grilled cheese, a fresh pat of butter melting in the pan and her knife spreading a thick layer on two more slices of bread. Humming quietly to herself, she repeated the process of cooking the sandwich in the pan and slid it onto another plate. To her surprise, though, when she turned back around Axe had not moved a muscle and was still just staring at the sandwich as if it were the second coming of the messiah.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Diana asked, taking a cautious bite out of her own. Ouch. Too hot.

With a slight jerk, Axe startled out of whatever reverie he had been in and swiped up the sandwich on his plate. He cracked open his jaw and shoved the entire sandwich into his mouth. Diana caught a glimpse of sharp, jagged teeth chewing and crushing the sandwich before it disappeared into the void in the back of his mouth. A blue tongue slithered out and ran over his teeth, catching any stray crumbs that dared to dream of escape. All traces of his victim gone, Axe then eyed the sandwich still in Diana’s hand longingly.

Diana was too distracted by the fact that he had a _tongue_ to notice the coveting gaze. So clearly, the skeletons were composed of more than just bones…or was it maybe just Axe? She took another bite of her grilled cheese, suddenly overwhelmed by the many questions that arose from this. Based on Cross’s and Killer’s comments about ‘alternate universes’, it had become extremely obvious that each of the skeletons were different versions of each other or at the very least shared several common characteristics in both physical and mental aspects. This then begged the question of what each boy had in common and what was different, and _why_. So, could all the Assholes (as Diana preferred to think of them as a collective) summon tongues, or was it just Axe, who did seem to have a fixation on food?

The thought of Axe made her glance back over at him, and she finally noticed his fixation on the half-eaten sandwich still in her hand. “…you want another one?” she asked, and this time Axe answered her with a nod much more promptly.

He had not said a single word apart from that grunted “what”, which was throwing Diana off. She didn’t remember much of her interaction with him in the city, but she definitely remembered him talking with the other Assholes before he had attacked her. The silence was starting to unnerve her. Nevertheless, Diana decided to graciously make him one more grilled cheese—and it definitely wasn’t because he looked like an excited little kid waiting on his mother’s cooking as he sat quietly at the kitchen counter. If he had been a few inches shorter, Diana was sure he’d even be swinging his feet like a child.

Another few minutes passed in silence, broken only by the bubbling and sizzling of the butter and grilled cheese cooking in the pan. Diana glanced over at Axe every now and then, finishing off her own sandwich as the last one cooked, and somehow she thought his permanent grin seemed more…relaxed. Almost genuine. His eyelight was back to a relatively normal size—for him at least—taking up about half of his socket, though it still remained unwaveringly on her.

Finally, Diana slid the plate in front of him with his second sandwich resting on it. This time there was no hesitation; Axe snatched the grilled cheese immediately and threw it into his gaping maw, where it met the same fate as its unfortunate predecessor. That blue tongue made another appearance, to Diana’s horrified fascination, swiping up any remains of grease and crumbs before disappearing again.

Diana took his empty plate and he looked excited for a moment, no doubt hopeful at getting a third sandwich, but deflated when she merely took it to the sink and washed it off.

She made sure to wipe down both their plates and the pan thoroughly, not wanting to invite any unwanted bitching about making a mess in the kitchen. After that, Diana ran the wet rag around the counter to catch any stray crumbs. Axe continued to watch her, and Diana wondered if he was just waiting for her to leave so he could make more food to satiate his clearly large appetite.

“Thanks,” he said suddenly, startling her severely when she turned to realize he was standing right behind her again. Seriously, how did a monster as big as him move so silently? He seemed amused at her reaction and let out a low, rumbling chuckle before his expression turned more serious. “So, Dust told me you weren’t the one in control when we fought.”

After a second, Diana realized that despite his tone, he was actually asking her a question. She repressed a sigh, hating having to repeatedly dredge up her… _condition_. “No,” she answered reluctantly. “There is…another soul in me. They were the one who…uh, you were dealing with for most of that.”

“Which one of you uses fire magic?”

The pieces clicked together in her mind. Based on his questions and the decidedly singed nature of his clothing, Apollo must have gotten him pretty good. Killer’s earlier quip about him feeling ‘ _burnt out_ ’ came to her mind, and she really hoped Axe wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. “Ah…that would be the other soul. My magic is usually based on ice.”

Axe continued to stare at her, seeming to take a few moments to process her answer. “But you can use both magic types at once.”

Diana grimaced. “I can’t. The other soul is able to, but I can’t use hi— _their_ magic without waking them up.” She never understood how Apollo was so easily able to draw upon the magic from both of their souls without relinquishing control, but that was the unfortunate truth. Diana could only access his magic if Apollo was close to being awake; right now, she couldn’t even feel the slightest whisper of his magic due to his current state of deep slumber.

Axe was silent for a while again. Diana wondered how much of the “situation” had been explained to him—she had noticed he hadn’t been in the throne room with the others during Nightmare’s interrogation. Finally Axe shrugged. “Okay.”

She blinked. “Okay?”

He shrugged again. “That’s all I wanted to know. Nightmare already said you were off-limits so I was curious about your deal. Just wanted to _grill_ you and make sure you didn’t plan on _rekindling_ our _old flames_ before I can _warm up_ to you.”

“Ugh,” Diana grimaced before she could stop herself. Axe looked very pleased with himself at that. She decided to excuse herself before he could think of more forced puns. “Well, the kitchen’s all yours if you need it. I’m going to go see if I can find my room again.”

His voice stopped her in her tracks as Diana moved to walk around him. “You want help?”

Diana gave him her own appraising stare. He looked back at her, unfazed by the obvious evaluation. Though she was far from considering herself an expert on skeleton facial expressions yet, Diana thought that his skull didn’t seem to have that same tension and barely-masked bloodlust that it had when she first saw him. He seemed almost…casual.

Well, he _had_ said Nightmare had deemed her off-limits, so hopefully this wasn’t a trick to lure her into some dark dungeon and finish what he had started in the city. “Sure,” she said cautiously. On second thought, she didn’t want to come off as ungrateful or rude, so she added a “Thanks.”

Axe seemed pleased that she had accepted his help, his eyelight almost seeming to become fuzzy for a second before snapping back to normal. “Alright, then. I’m going to follow Cross’s scent and see if that takes us back to your room since he supposedly went straight there from the kitchen.”

“You heard that?” Diana asked. “Wait, how long were you listening to us?”

“Can’t hear you, already tracking.”

~~ ~~

It took a surprisingly short amount of time for Axe to lead them to her room—something Diana was extremely grateful for. It had been a long day, and she was tired beyond belief.

She opened the door and walked in to see that Cross had indeed dropped off the supplies from their shopping trip on the floor by her bed. Next to the grocery store bags was the gigantic pile of clothes from the department store—which Diana was sorely displeased to see Axe was perusing with great interest, having followed her into the bedroom.

“Oh, I like that color,” Axe purred. Diana blanched as he held up a pair of blue boyshorts that Killer had picked out. “How’d you know I like blue?”

“Killer picked those out.”

“Oh.” Axe blinked. “Wait, how does _he_ know what I like?”

Diana wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really think I want to know how.” Based on Axe’s expression, he agreed with her, and he dropped the underwear back on the pile. Diana felt a ghost of a smile tug at her lips, and she added, “He prefers leopard print apparently.”

Axe barked out a laugh at that. “He fucking would.” He looked down at the pile and smirked. “Can’t help but notice there’s none in here.”

“Of course not.” She shuddered again at the thought of her ass in leopard print underwear. “Disgusting.”

He gave her a long, measuring look, red eyelight dilating and constricting almost lazily in thought. His smile looked relaxed again. In that moment, Diana felt a flash of amusement at the thought that despite his appearance, he honestly seemed less threatening to her than any of the other Assholes—save for Cross, of course. Axe didn’t seem to harbor any lingering ill will, and didn’t have that unrelenting drive to elicit a negative reaction from her like Killer did.

Diana scolded herself as soon as that thought flashed through her. Now was not the time to be getting soft or deluding herself into thinking her captors wanted to be friends with her. Nightmare had abducted her for a reason—she just had to find out what that reason was. She shouldn’t let herself get distracted.

Axe seemed to notice that Diana had no intention of continuing the conversation, and seemed a bit antsy. He pushed himself to his feet and shoved his hands into the frayed pockets of his abused jacket. “Alright, well…bye.” Diana blinked and he was gone—again without making any noise! How was he doing that?

Oh well. Finally she was alone, without the constant gaze of a random skeleton judging her every action. Diana stretched her arms above her head, reveling in the satisfying pops and cracks that sounded from her body.

Quickly, she put away the necessities they had acquired throughout the bedroom and in the bathroom. The mage frowned at the pile of clothes by her bed, realizing that she had no shelves or dresser to put the clothes away in. With a sigh, she settled for neatly folding each article of clothing and trying to organize them in piles by the wall. She’d have to figure out a way to acquire some furniture for her room.

Ugh. She was already starting to think in the long term for her kidnapping. Though it did beg the question of how long Nightmare intended to keep her here—but Diana didn’t particularly feel like trying to figure that out at the moment.

No, all she wanted to do right now was throw herself onto the bed and let herself pass out. And so she did. She would start her new life in the morning.

~~ ~~

Diana awoke feeling somewhat refreshed and close to what she would consider normal. Apollo still slumbered deeply; she could only feel the faintest of stirring in her chest as he dreamed. After staring at the ceiling for several minutes, Diana realized that she should probably take a shower and get dressed before any of the skeletons came to harass her.

She emerged from her shower, dressed in a fresh change of clothes and having done her teeth and still no skeletons made themselves present. Hmm. She had decided to keep it simple today as well, throwing on a baggy sweatshirt and dark grey leggings. Diana still wasn’t sure if skeletons got horny for humans, but until she found out for sure she was going to do her damnedest to wear the most unsexy clothes possible.

After a few more minutes and her stomach rumbling, Diana decided that if no one was going to come get her, she would at least try to get something to eat. Scrambled eggs sounded real good right now.

Diana slowly made her way through the halls of the castle; she had made sure to pay extra attention when Axe had walked her back to her room from the kitchen, and felt confident she had memorized the turns and doors. Her confidence was rewarded by the sight of the empty kitchen. Diana patted herself on the back.

The eggs were pulled out of the fridge and Diana set out whisking them in a mixing bowl she found under one of the cabinets as the pan heated. She hadn’t thought to get any spices or seasonings on their grocery trip, but figured she could use monster spices with no ill effects. Some black pepper and salt sprinkled into the mixture, and then it was bubbling in the pan.

Diana hummed to herself as she stirred the eggs, a simple melody she had learned as a child to focus her concentration. She turned to grab a plate from the cabinet—only to yelp in surprise when her arm whacked Axe across the chest.

Axe looked down at her in amusement, having managed yet again to sneak up right behind her so close that his chest was almost touching her back. “ _Eggscited_ to see me?” he quipped.

“Ugh,” Diana grunted at the lazy wordplay. He snickered at her exasperation. Diana rolled her eyes and grabbed the plate she had been going for, scooping the eggs from the pan to the plate. She noticed his eye lingering on the food before him, and before she could stop herself Diana found herself offering the plate to him.

The red eyelight seemed to grow hazy around the edges in his socket as he stared down at the offered plate of eggs, a sprinkle of cheese melting appetizingly on top. “You _egging me_ on, human?” he asked teasingly, grinning even wider when she rolled her eyes. Gently, almost gingerly, he took the plate and shuffled over to the stool at the island. Axe was much more slow to consume his food this time, each bite savored as he continued to stare at the back of Diana’s head thoughtfully.

When Diana turned back around with her own plate of eggs, Axe had already disappeared without a word. She shrugged. Oh well, hopefully she had wormed her way into his good graces at least. After breakfast, she needed to track Cross down and figure out what he had planned for her today.

~~ Time for a POV change I would think ~~

Killer was pleasantly surprised to smell what seemed to be pancakes cooking as he wandered down the hall. It had been a while since Axe had been in a good enough mood to make breakfast, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the gang who had come to look forward to Axe’s cooking.

Changing course, he popped into the kitchen to see Axe standing at the stove, well-worn apron tied around his waist and expertly flipping a flapjack. Killer noticed that he had finally seen fit to clean himself up and change into unburnt clothes—no doubt Nightmare had threatened to hose him down again if he continued to walk around smelling like a charcoal grill.

Dust had already made himself comfortable at the kitchen table, staring off into space and occasionally twitching at whatever his hallucinations muttered in his ear. He had been having trouble with LV surges lately, and the way his phalanges drummed restlessly on the table told Killer that Dust was likely ramping up for another “manic phase,” as Nightmare had called it once.

Heh. Killer wondered what would happen if the human ran into Dust during one of his dissociations. Would Nightmare still get angry at Dust if he happened to kill the human under the influence of his LV? Killer made a mental note to try to see if he could engineer a ‘chance meeting’ later today; this close to an attack, being anywhere near a human would no doubt send Dust into a murderous frenzy. Ooh, this may turn out to be a fun day—he could watch a human die _and_ see Nightmare lose his shit on Dust.

“What are you giggling about?” Dust asked suspiciously, eyes finally focusing on his counterpart.

“Nothing, Dusty. Nothing at all.”

“Hm.” Dust eyed him warily, well aware that any laughing from Killer was the sign of incoming shenanigans. Dust would likely make sure to avoid Killer for the rest of today, being well acquainted with Killer’s tendencies to needle him during his “manic phases.”

That was okay, Killer chuckled to himself. He just needed to find a way to push the human into Dust’s path—Dust would be on the lookout for Killer, not the human. It was the perfect crime…

Axe dumped a plate towering with a stack of pancakes on the table between the two skeletons. “Eat up,” he ordered before returning to the stove to cook even more. To Killer’s bemusement, the gigantic, hulking skeleton seemed much calmer than he would have expected after such an…eventful outing. Axe had been extremely cantankerous on their original return, his gluttonous feeding interrupted by the human’s interference, and Killer was surprised to see that Axe was even _humming_ to himself, completely relaxed as he worked on the next stack of pancakes.

“What’s got you so chipper?” Dust asked, voicing Killer’s own unspoken question. He slathered his plate with more maple syrup than Killer thought necessary and dug in eagerly. Killer was more refrained with his own plate, only using a dab of syrup and butter.

“Hm. Dunno.” Axe poured more batter into the pan. “The human cooked me food last night and it was pretty good. Maybe she infused some magic or something in it. I felt _batter_ enough to make breakfast.”

Killer shared a bemused look with Dust. Axe must really be in a _~~batter~~_ better mood to be using puns already. “You made the human cook you dinner?” Killer sniggered. “Putting her to work already, huh?”

Axe paused at that. A funny look spread over his face. “No,” he said quietly, sounding almost confused. “She offered it to me without me asking. Even made me another sandwich when I finished the first one. And then she even offered me her breakfast this morning.”

“Oh, she’s smart. Obviously she’s figured out how to get into your good graces,” Killer sneered. “Probably just trying to get some brownie points.” Axe only gave a thoughtful hum at that, sliding the last of the pancakes onto his own plate and turning the stove off.

The larger skeleton turned away from the stove and frowned when he saw how many pancakes still remained on the plate on the table. Dust and Killer caught the pointed look and shrugged, continuing to stuff their faces. The scowl deepened. “Where’s Cross?”

Killer shrugged again. “Probably went to play house with the human.” His voice dripped with contempt at the thought. While none of the boys were particularly fond of humans, Killer had always housed a special hatred of humanity that he had never deigned to explain to the others. The thought of that soft idiot Cross spending so much time with the human and treating her like a new _pet_ project made his soul twinge with bloodlust. When the human finally showed her true colors and attacked Cross, he would make sure to rub it in Cross’s face as much as _humanly_ possible.

A growl came from Axe at that answer. “I’ve told him not to skip breakfast before,” he snarled, his face already twisting into his familiar demented grin at the thought of hunting Cross down and stuffing his mouth full of pancakes. Killer perked up at that—he always relished the opportunity to see Cross miserable, even if it meant spending time around the human.

Dust was already shoving himself away from the table, distancing himself from the rising bloodlust as he swallowed his last mouthful. He mumbled some excuse about training and disappeared with a loud crack, shortcutting away to some hidden corner of the castle. Killer grinned. Dust must be really close to an LV attack.

With another low growl, Axe shoved the gigantic stack of pancakes on his own plate into his mouth in one go. He was always able to impress Killer with the sheer amount of food he was able to fit into his mouth at one time, and Killer watched with disgusted fascination as the hotcakes were quickly disposed of. Axe then grabbed the original plate on the table, and after a few deep breaths—no doubt casting for Cross’s scent—he whirled around and launched himself out of the room.

Killer whooped in glee and followed close behind. He wondered if Nightmare could feel the rising emotions coming from them and laughed at the thought of the look of annoyance that was likely on his boss’s face at their early morning shenanigans. Nightmare hated when they made a ruckus in the castle, and this was promising to be quite the romp.

Axe thundered down the hall, too worked up to try his hand at shortcutting to where he estimated Cross to be. Though Axe had regained the use of some of his magic since being taken in under Nightmare’s wing, he still struggled with the more complex uses; namely, shortcutting. Axe preferred to use more physical means of both transportation and attacking, and usually had to rely on one of the others when shortcutting was necessary.

Killer thought about being “helpful” and shortcutting to Axe’s room and grabbing his namesake for him, but decided that would probably be wasted. Axe didn’t have any true bloodlust at the moment, just the usual triggered rage at the thought of one of his teammates going hungry.

They burst through a set of solid double doors to find a startled Cross and human standing in the middle of the entrance hall. Cross’s eyelights honed in on the plate in Axe’s hand and he visibly flinched. Oh, he _knew_ what was happening, Killer thought with glee.

The human’s eyes were huge in her face, and she clutched the broom in her hands tightly in front of her at the sight of a frenzied Axe bearing down on them. Her body tensed and she instinctively backed away, creating some distance—only to watch as Axe completely ignored her and tackled Cross. The two skeletons crashed to the ground in a mess of flailing limbs and curses, Axe using his size and strength to overpower the smaller skeleton and pin him.

“Axe,” Cross panted, struggling under the heavy weight of Axe that was settling on his chest. His legs kicked uselessly. “Axe, I was—I swear I already ate. I ate first thing this morning!”

Axe’s eyelight shrank to a chilling pinprick, and his grimace took on a dangerous edge. “ _Liar,_ ” he hissed, and Cross’s struggles renewed as Axe wrapped one hand around his jaw. Sharp phalanges scraped at his teeth, but Cross obstinately kept his teeth clamped shut.

The human looked torn; no doubt she was trying to decide whether to try to come to Cross’s rescue or make her escape in case she was his next target. Killer sidled over to her; if he egged her on, she might end up running through the castle in a panic and run into Dust. Or, less satisfying but still entertaining, she would run into Nightmare—who was no doubt already annoyed at all the commotion and looking for someone to tear into.

She eyed Killer warily as he snuck over to her side. Killer was still disappointed that she was no longer wearing that _fantastic_ maid outfit; it really had been the highlight of yesterday. To Killer’s further disappointment, he couldn’t even admire the curve of her ass in those tight leggings due to the sweatshirt reaching the tops of her thighs. Killer may hate humans, but he wouldn’t deny he enjoyed their bodies—full of flesh and blood just aching for him to sink his phalanges and knives into. Ugh. Killer might have to exercise his “creative control” over her wardrobe if she kept dressing like a hungover college freshman. If Nightmare was going to force him to live with a human, he might as well get something out of it.

Killer greeted her with a wink and she somehow managed to tense even more. Such a mistrustful little girl. “You might want to stay out of his line of sight,” he suggested helpfully. “Axe is pretty generous when _pinning_ the blame for us skipping breakfast, especially if it was because Cross was with you.”

Her face paled at that, and Killer was very pleased to see her legs twitch and tense as if considering making a break for it.

Sounds of choking interrupted them, and the both of them looked over to see that Axe had succeeded in prying Cross’s mouth open and was shoving fistfuls of pancakes in. Killer laughed out loud at the look of despair on Cross’s face as he struggled to absorb the thick, fluffy pancakes into his digestive system before they completely blocked his throat. His struggles had ceased, and now he was just laying under Axe limply, having accepted his fate of death by pancake suffocation.

“Are we going to have go through this again for dinner?” Axe growled threateningly, the last fistful of breakfast hovering over Cross’s slack jaw. Cross only gave a weak groan and shook his head. “So you’re going to be in the kitchen promptly at 6 ready to eat?” Another weak groan and a nod. Axe visibly relaxed, shoving the last fistful in and watching in satisfaction as Cross gargled and choked it down.

Cross finally swallowed the last mouthful and collapsed, eyelights rolled back in his sockets before extinguishing completely and mouth hanging open. Faintly purple-hued saliva trickled from the corner of his mouth and stained his white jacket.

Axe looked up at Killer and the human, who were both standing there still watching with various degrees of fascination. Killer brightened as Axe’s eyelight focused on the human, who twitched when she realized the same thing. “Did you know he had skipped breakfast?” he asked her accusingly, voice low and dangerous.

The human shook her head. Axe grunted at that. “Well…don’t let it happen again. Cross knows that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” An affirmative gurgle from the skeleton underneath him brought a twitch to his smile. “It’s ok Cross, ya don’t gotta be all _choked_ _up_ about it.” An exasperated gurgle responded to that.

Killer gaped. That was it? Axe wasn’t going to attack the human? He shot the human a suspicious glare disguised under his usual smirk. She had already wormed her way into the good graces of both Cross _and_ Axe, the sneaky little bitch. No doubt her goal was to lure them all into trusting her—maybe even _liking_ her—before dusting them all and escaping. His phalanges twitched at the thought. _Humans were disgusting creatures who didn’t deserve a chance._

Heedless of Killer’s internal seething, Axe finally lifted himself off Cross with a condescending pat on the head. Cross feebly swatted away the offending hand, eliciting a chuckle from the larger skeleton. “See you at dinner,” he said half-teasingly, half-threatening. Cross gave a weak thumbs-up, and satisfied, Axe leaned down to pick the empty plate off the ground before trundling back to the kitchen to clean up.

“Is he gone?” Cross’s voice was an exhausted warble, his sockets still dark.

“Yes,” The human answered. She used the broom still in her hands to sweep up the scattering of crumbs around Cross’s head into her dustpan. Cross groaned and sat up finally, wiping his face off with the back of his hand. His eyelights finally came back and focused on Killer with a glare. “What?” he snapped irritably. Killer couldn’t hold back the amused giggle at Cross’s annoyance.

“Nothing, Criss-Cross. Just came by to see how you and the human were getting along before Axe _swept_ you up in all that.” Killer answered cheekily. “So what all have you two been up to today?”

Cross glared at him before replying. “I showed her around the main areas of the castle and then we started cleaning the entrance hall since Nightmare’s always complaining about you all tracking in mud and dirt all over the floors.”

“Heh heh, little kiss-ass Criss-Cross,” Killer teased, enjoying the lavender flush that flashed over Cross’s cheekbones.

“I’m going to kill you one of these days,” the ex-soldier promised darkly in a low mutter, only spurring on Killer’s amusement. He was almost too easy to rile up, honestly.

The human had long lost interest in their conversation and had continued to sweep the hall. No doubt she wanted to get on with the task, as the entrance hall was several hundred feet long and almost just as wide—Nightmare’s flair for the dramatic at work in the castle design. The floor was—or at least used to be—an immaculately polished marble, with several carved stone pillars lining the pathway in a fashion similar to the throne room. Now the marble was marred beyond all recognition, and covered with the stains and scuffmarks of a hundred careless footsteps. Nightmare did repeatedly bitch about the state of the castle, but Killer secretly suspected that if Nightmare truly cared he would have long expended the effort to reform the castle in its original state.

“Human,” Cross called out, and her head popped up. “I’m going to go grab the supplies for us to mop and wax the floors.” She nodded and Cross hurried off—after shooting another glare at Killer, of course.

Killer couldn’t believe his luck. What perfect timing—the human was alone, Cross was likely going to take several minutes to track down all the supplies, and Dust was _somewhere_ in the castle skulking about in a pre-murderous rage. All he had to do was lure Dust into the entrance hall. The human was watching him again, no doubt because he was giggling uncontrollably and rubbing his hands together. Killer ignored her and shortcutted to as close as he could get to where he felt Dust’s presence.

Dust wasn’t hard to track down, to tell the truth. His surges in LV were causing his magic to spike and give away his position. Killer crept down the hallway to the laundry room, feeling Dust’s rising anxiety as the other skeleton tried in vain to hide from him.

LV had a funny effect on monsters after a certain point. Up to LV 20, it served as almost a protection or buffer, allowing killing to become easier and cause less of an emotional strain. Past LV 20—and you had to _really_ work to get past LV 20, like you almost had to break your own code—you became a danger to yourself. Instead of just being numb to killing, you became addicted to killing, and would feel the uncontrollable urge to slaughter monsters and humans alike to slake that thirst—which would just increase your LV and feed into the cycle. Killer wondered what Dust had done to manage to get past LV 20—he suspected it had something to do with the ghost of his dead brother he claimed to talk to and the numerous resets they knew Dust had gone through in his original universe—but the manic skeleton was well entrenched in the vicious cycle of LV by the time Nightmare had picked him up. The other boys had learned to stay well clear of Dust when his LV surged, as he would attack anyone who approached him until either he burned himself out or Nightmare intervened.

But, Killer was a slow learner and liked a bit of excitement. Accordingly, Dust had long learned to avoid Killer before his mania even started to manifest—like he was now.

Killer kicked in the door to the laundry room, taking great pleasure in the way Dust swore and skittered around a folding table.

“Goddammit, Killer, why do you fucking do this every time?!” Dust snarled at him, jumping on top of the washer as Killer continued to advance. “You know I’m gonna fucking dust you, right?”

“You wish,” Killer beamed up at Dust, hands shoved nonchalantly into the pockets of his jacket.

Dust was almost vibrating with bloodlust, his mismatched eyelights blazing in his sockets from the amount of pent-up magic begging to be released. It was a credit to his self-control that he wasn’t launching himself at Killer right now, honestly. Killer took another step toward him, and with another swear, Dust shortcutted out of the laundry room.

Oh, this _was_ going to be a fun day. Not only was Killer potentially going to get rid of that human, but he was making Dust’s life an absolute living hell—fitting payback for sitting to the side during their initial encounter with the human and not lifting a damn finger to help. Dust wasn’t laughing now, now was he?

It was child’s play for Killer to track down where Dust’s desperate shortcut had taken him—in his haste and agitation, Dust’s shortcut left a clear signature that all but advertised his destination. Killer smiled maliciously when he noticed that it was a broom closet that was closer to the entrance hall than the laundry room and immediately took his own shortcut to stand outside the door. He knocked, once, and heard the foulest of language spew forth from the other side before the signature crack of another shortcut.

This was almost too easy. Dust was in the hallway leading to the entrance hall, twitching uncontrollably when Killer appeared behind him.

“Killer, I fucking mean it,” Dust said desperately, eyelights wavering as he teetered on the edge. “I don’t want to get in trouble with Nightmare again! _Leave me alone,_ ” He flinched suddenly, as if someone had said something in his ear.

Killer took yet another step forward, and this time he made sure to seal the deal by flipping a knife casually in his hand. Dust shuddered at the LV radiating from Killer—though it was nowhere near the amount that Dust was emanating—before turning and running through the door leading to the entrance hall.

Easy. Killer considered popping into the kitchen to grab some popcorn, but that risked catching Axe’s attention. Axe would definitely run to Nightmare if he caught wind of what Killer was up to. So, Killer decided to leisurely follow Dust and watch the show.

But man, some popcorn would be _killer_ right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axe: I'm not crazy about the human  
> Diana: Sandwich?  
> Axe: I'm gonna marry that human
> 
> Diana kinda has a secret maternal drive~ I almost had her cut the crusts off Axe's sandwich before I stopped myself.
> 
> Can you guess which skelebro we're focusing on next chapter?? Yeah, it's Dust (and yet even more Killer, cuz that little fucker loves instigating).
> 
> And then we'll finally spend some quality time with Nightmare either next chapter or the one after that, depending on how verbose I write the next few scenes. Gotta get this smut train on the tracks sometime or another, toot toot.
> 
> I've got a few tests coming up so, probably sparse updates for a bit.


End file.
